Better Forgotten
by milkyourpigs
Summary: Famous actress Santana Lopez is cast in the movie adaption of Quinn Fabray's best selling coming of age novel: The Best Time of Your Life, a slightly autobiographical book but it turns out the two have met before.
1. Meeting the Blonde

**_AN: _**_I feel like I should mention that though it seems in this chapter that Quinn and Santana don't know each other, I know I said in the summary that they've met..and they have, so don't think I forgot!_

* * *

**Better Forgotten**

**1. Meeting the Blonde**

"Santana? Hellooo, wake up," the hotel phone on the bedside table was singing far too close to Santana's head. She groggily snatched it up and brought it to her ear, slowing sitting up on the bed with her hair a bird's nest of knots around her head and a bad headache which throbbed even worse when she was sat upright.

"What?" she grumbled into the receiver and checked the time on the clock that was sitting beside the phone hook. 11:30 AM, plenty more time for sleep…

"We've got a cast lunch soon," Rachel chirped, far too energetic for the early morning hour. "To get to know the others, obviously I don't need to get to know you. Apparently the authors going to be there, too!"

"Great, I'll be sure to tell her how much I love the book and script," Santana said as she slid back down and nestled her head in her pillow. Maybe another half an hour. "When I've read them."

"You've not even read the script yet? I finished the book _ages _ago. It truly is a work of art. Anyway, get out of bed _right now_," Rachel snapped. A small smile crept onto Santana's lips as her eyelids fluttered shut. Even through the phone Rachel knew her so well. "It's a lunch date, Santana. We have to be there very soon."

"We?" Santana asked.

"Yes, we. I'm outside your hotel room," there was a smile in Rachel's voice and, to prove her point, there was a harsh rap at the door. "Let me in."

"Oh, God," Santana groaned and put the phone back on the hook before dragging herself off the bed and over to the door in her sleepy morning trance. She opened the door and Rachel pushed her way inside before Santana had even managed to get a good look at her, "Well…come in, then."

"Thanks," Rachel grinned as she took a seat on the armchair in the corner of the room, "You're not turning up in that. Get changed."

"Yes, boss," Santana muttered and pulled her suitcase onto her bed, struggling to unzip it when it was so close to bursting open as it was. Finally, when it was lying open on her bed she pawed through the contents and pulled out a few options that looked smart enough.

"You haven't unpacked yet? You've been here…what, two nights already?" Rachel sounded horrified. Santana frowned and looked over at what Rachel was wearing: a V-neck jumper tucked into black and white patterned shorts and black boots. She smiled and picked up a black dress with a red flower pattern on it, one of her leather jackets and her own pair of black boots. Perfectly smart casual.

When she'd brushed her hair, put on a bit of make up and was finally ready the two girls hurried out of the hotel room and took the elevator down to the lobby. It was pretty empty in there so they rushed through and out onto the streets but the calm hotel was misleading. As soon as they were outside, flashbulbs were popping and microphones were thrust in their faces.

"Miss Berry, how does it feel to be starring in the most anticipated movie of the year?" someone shouted directly into her face.

"Santana, over here!" another voice called. Santana grabbed onto Rachel's arm and pushed through the mob of paparazzi to their limo, where Rachel's driver was clearing an entrance into the car for them. When they were close enough, he popped open the door and Santana slid in, pulling Rachel in after her.

A few seconds later the car was pulling out and they were leaving the continually flashing cameras behind them. Santana sighed with relief but Rachel was looking over her shoulder in excitement.

* * *

When the car slid to a stop in front of the restaurant they'd been told was hosting the meet-up, Santana was relieved to see that the paparazzi were being held back from them this time—very organised by whoever arranged the meal. The limo driver held the door for them while they got out and then climbed back in to waste his time before he was needed again.

Rachel slipped her arm through Santana's and she observed the camera flashing increase even more, if that were possible. They ducked their heads and hurried inside the restaurant and, with a check of her phone, Santana saw they were ten minutes late. Oops.

"Hi, Rachel Berry and Santana Lopez," Rachel said to the woman dressed in her black waitress uniform that approached them with a smile. She nodded and led them to the back of the restaurant. They passed under an archway that alerted them to a change in décor: black walls, some with monochrome wallpaper and suddenly everything looked much more expensive. Also, back there the amount of people dramatically decreased.

Around the corner was a large table with a group of people sat around it chatting noisily. The waitress gestured towards it to tell them that's where they were expected and the group looked up.

"Oh, Rachel," an actor Santana recognised as Kurt Hummel said, smiling at Rachel. Santana remembered being forced to watch a movie Rachel starred in with him in it—that must be how they knew each other. "It's not like you to be late!"

"Nor you, Santana," Noah Puckerman chipped in from beside Kurt. When Santana saw him a huge grin appeared on her face and she hurried over to take the spare seat beside him before Rachel had the chance.

"I didn't know you were cast, Puck!" she cheered.

"Not originally," he said, "But when some tapes were shown to this lady here, she had them rearrange a few things."

Santana turned to see where he was directing his attention and finally noticed the blonde she was sat beside. When Santana could only stare at the girl, unable to form any words, the blonde's beam slowly faded to a look of worry. Santana blinked quickly, tearing her eyes away from the other girls face when she finally realised she'd been staring at her for an indecent amount of time. "Sorry, I'm Santana."

For a second the other girl looked surprised before a small smile worked its way back onto her face, "I know. I'm Quinn—the author."

"Oh, well thank you much for letting me bring to life your main character! I hope I can do her justice, the book is just fabulous," Santana gushed, catching Rachel's eye for a second. Rachel just shook her head at Santana: she was forever stuck in her ways.

"I'm sure you will; I've heard many people identify with the characters," Quinn smiled again and Santana made a point not to gaze at her for as long this time but man, the girl was gorgeous. She could easily be a model, why was she wasting her time writing? Though, of course, Santana still had yet to read her work… "And you're such a good actress from what I've seen."

"You've seen me in something?" Santana asked and immediately regretted her surprise, telling herself to stop feeling so flattered. Of course she had, Santana was in loads of things…it wasn't vanity—although she had plenty of that—that meant she could say she was a household name.

"Anyway," Puck interjected and reminded the girls why they were chatting in the first place, "That means I'm your favourite, right, Quinn? 'Cause you picked me."

"I helped choose the others too," Quinn reminded him, "They just didn't put you through to me until I rejected everyone else for the role."

Santana felt Quinn's eyes on her again and turned to offer her a small smile. Puck snorted under his breath and whispered to Santana, "Definitely on your team. Not responding correctly to the old Puckster Charm."

"Shut up, Puckerman," Santana grumbled back but couldn't help hoping he was right—she truly was gorgeous. But there was nothing she could do even if Quinn was gay…she was practically her boss.

* * *

Rachel got into the limo first this time, with Santana slipping in beside her and shooting her a happy look. "Well, that went well."

"Yeah, you didn't fall asleep in your food," Rachel taunted. "You got on well with the author."

"She's a sweetheart," Santana said; she was allowed to say that much without it becoming unprofessional. "I think I might actually read the book now."

"And so you should, you'll understand your character better that way. She goes through a lot," Rachel said seriously. Santana laughed lightly and batted her away. "Do you have a copy?"

"Nope."

"Here, have mine then," Rachel pulled a battered looking version of _The Best Time of Your Life_ from her bag and placed it in Santana's hands with a sad look down at it, as if she'd miss a _book_, for God's sake.

"You carry a copy of it around with you? Rach, you're so sad," Santana giggled, "What's it about?"

"If I tell you that you won't read it," Rachel shook her head at the girl. Santana shrugged and looked out of the window. Rachel was probably right.

* * *

Santana flicked the bedside lamp on and pressed her pillow against the bedstead, leaning back against it and pulling the covers up over her body, dressed in her PJ's already at 8:30 PM. She opened Rachel's well thumbed copy of _The Best Time of Your Life_ and read through the acknowledgements but unlike in most books, where they mentioned a person or two, Quinn had written:

_I dedicate this book to whoever reads it,  
__Whoever and wherever you are, I hope that this helps you in some way.__  
_

Santana raised her eyebrows, now fully prepared for a self-help book and flipped the pages until she got to the first chapter, snuggling down to read it.

She was a few pages in by the time her phone rang and disturbed her. She put the book down and went to see who was calling but did so quite begrudgingly. The main girl—Santana's character—had already got to school and checked out some girl called Noelle Hanson who was apparently a pretty blonde. Of course, Santana was picturing Quinn. But she couldn't have written herself into the book as the love interest could she?

Perhaps if the main girl was looking at other girls that meant Quinn really was gay…no, Santana. Don't even go there.

Finally, she flipped her phone over and the screen was lit up with a picture of Quinn that Santana had taken of her at the meal, indicating that it was her who was calling. Santana smiled at the picture for a minute—Quinn looked beautiful even when protesting about having her picture taken—then accepted the call. "Why, hello. I was just re-reading your book for a bit of acting prep."

"Sounds good," Quinn sounded smug on the other end of the line. "I was just wondering if you wanted to do something. I'm at a loose end for the night."

Santana glanced at the clock again and smiled. Quinn hadn't seemed like a late-night out kind of girl but appearances could sometimes be deceiving. She felt a little guilty just thinking about leaving; she'd planned on getting at least halfway through the book tonight…but if Quinn wanted to see her, she was down with that. "Sure. Rachel, Puck and Kurt were saying how they were going to do something tonight. I can call them and invite us along, if you want?"

Quinn giggled. Santana couldn't help smiling at the sound—it sounded like innocent like a child's laugh or tinkling bells. "Partying it up with the stars. Gladly. Just tell me how to dress; I hate being under or overdressed."

"OK, I'll call Rachel then text you. Also, text me your address. I'll pick you up so you don't have to get there alone," Santana added as an after thought before dismissing the call without so much as a 'bye'—Quinn was going to have to understand how Santana functioned soon enough, she wasn't going to waste time being polite—and dialled Rachel's number. "Hey, Rach. What was it you were saying about going out tonight?"

"Oh, Puck and I were going to meet Kurt and his musician boyfriend at a club. You want to come now? You'll have to move fast, we're meeting in half an hour!" Rachel said over loud clattering noises in the background. Rachel Berry getting ready to go out was always a hectic occasion.

"OK, I'm bringing Quinn. You know, the author. Text me the details. And half an hours fine. I can be a little late."

"As ever," she laughed and knocked something else over, or so it sounded. "OK, I'll text you."

And with that, the conversation was over. Santana checked her texts and found the one from Quinn containing her address. Good, it wasn't too far from the hotel, that'd save time. Her phone buzzed again when the message from Rachel came through with where they were meeting at nine thirty. From that Santana sent Quinn a decoded text with how to dress and what time she'd be at her house with the limo.

She dropped her phone on the bed and hurriedly searched her suitcase for some suitable partying clothes. She was going to have to buy more stuff… Grabbing a pair of high waisted leopard print shorts, a black bralet, black heels and a necklace, she switched outfits in record time despite never being one to change quickly. Hurriedly, she ran a brush through her hair again, thanking her hair for behaving—it was still in the pretty waves from the day before after she'd got the initial knots out—and touched up the make up she'd rushed on for going out earlier.

She grabbed her phone, secured it in her bra and, for the second time that day, running out of the door in a hurry. It was becoming a habit. The lobby was even more deserted this time, with the only other people there being the workers chatting absently behind the desk. Speeding through, she didn't even contemplate possible paparazzi standing watch by the door—there were none, thankfully. Ready and waiting by the front doors was her limousine with the door wide open. With a smile, she jumped inside and after a few seconds the car started, taking her to Quinn's place.

When she checked her phone there was another message from Quinn.

** I don't know what to wear!**

But it was too late for Santana to reply now, so she put her phone away again and waited for the car to halt outside the apartment building that Quinn lived in where she jumped out and buzzed apartment 4C. When the buzzing cut out Santana tugged at the door but it still wouldn't budge. She frowned and stepped back, searching for signs of life in the windows of the massive apartment block and wondered whether to throw some rocks up at Quinn's window. It seemed like the kind of thing Quinn would like…but she didn't know which window it was. When she looked back down the blonde was making her way towards her, smiling at her through the glass of the door.

Santana stepped out of the way so she could open it and looked at the girls outfit, "You look fine, sure you couldn't decide."

Quinn glanced down at the black skater skirt and black high necked top she was wearing and shrugged, "I bet I don't look as good as you."

"Yeah…but you never could," Santana lied and linked her arm through Quinn's. When the other girl shot her a nervous glance Santana made a show of laughing so that she realised it was a joke. Quinn's face relaxed and she giggled along with her. When she helped her into the car, Santana was still glittering from Quinn's compliment.

* * *

_OK so I don't know if I'm going to continue this cuz I have another 2 fanfics on the go (one of which I'm falling out with a bit) so let me know what you think and thank you for reading!_


	2. Sleepover

_**AN: **A__gaaain it seems like they haven't met but we're getting closer_**_._**

_Agh you'll have no idea how many times I rewrote this. I just couldn't get it right.. and I dunno I'm still not fully satisfied but I was close to hitting my computer haha so here we go!_

_I wish I could thank each of you who have reviewed, favourited and followed individually but that'd make for a massive AN because there's so many of you! Oh my, i'm so pleased with how many people have shown this some support. It literally made me so happy to keep checking the website and seeing the number go up.. i'm completely shocked, i've never had such a good response for a fanfic before. Just know that it's not gone unnoticed even though I haven't given you all shout outs! It made me really nervous writing this though, i felt like I couldn't disappoint you all haha... I hope i haven't._

**_Gleek4Snix:_**_ haha sorry! I don't claim to know anything about the acting business but I figured I could get away with her manager getting her the audition and she just reads the scene she has to audition with.. Lets just pretend thats how it works. and thank you so much for putting the incorrectness of it aside and reading anyway!_

_And also thank you to **sawa255**, Guest, **kaydducky **and **KeepCalmAndKlaine **for the words of encouragement! It really means a lot to me. _

* * *

**Better Forgotten**

**2. Sleepover**

When the limo slid to a halt on Hollywood Boulevard, Santana leant forwards and peered out of the blacked out window into the street to check on the paparazzi status. When she was certain there were none, she moved her get out of the car but felt Quinn latch onto her arm. Santana turned to look at the girl and felt her breathing slow when she caught sight of Quinn's perfect face surrounded by her tightly curled hair...her own personal blonde halo.

Get your crap together, Santana; you're going to be filming in front of this woman soon. You're going to need to be able to breathe then. "If things get a bit wild…you'll look after me, right?"

"I've got your back, Quinn," Santana placed her hand on top of the one that was grabbing her arm and gave it a reassuring squeeze but inside she was celebrating the fact that Quinn wanted her to look out for her…that she was responsible for her. "Plus, I'm your ride. I can't have you disappearing on me."

Quinn nodded happily and slid her hand out from beneath Santana's, hooking her arm through hers instead. Dialling down the huge smile that crept onto Santana's face wasn't working so she hid it instead, turning away to busy herself with opening the door. With their linked arms, Santana pulled Quinn into the street after her, holding her close for warmth against an imaginary breeze.

But even with her careful checking, Santana still had to drag Quinn across the road with camera flashes dancing around them. They hurried up to the roped off entrance to the nightclub which had no queue, where all Santana needed to do was flash a smile at the bouncer and he backed out of the way.

Once inside, she took the two of them through a large dark corridor with chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, past a cut-out in the wall with a girl stood behind it minding people's coats and bags, to a set of heavy black curtains. "Here we are."

At Santana's words, she pulled back one of the curtains and walked the two of them into a huge room, where they came out on what seemed to be the second floor. Up there appeared to be the _chilled out _area, with empty seating areas of sofas and tables dotted about.

Santana glanced at Quinn with a smile when she noticed the girl staring in awe at the ceiling from which hundreds of lights were descended, forming a wave of colours as they all flooded from one end of the room to the other. But when Quinn turned away from the roof and looked at where they were heading at the bottom of the stairs, all she could see was bodies. Bodies everywhere…bumping, colliding, 'dancing'.

Over the throbbing music Santana shouted, "We are the rich and famous, Quinny. We're off to the VIP lounge."

Quinn's forehead creased, allowing the other girl to drag her through the dancers which, with a look at who was passing them, began parting to allow them by. Being with Santana was like being royalty.

Another bouncer who recognised Santana was stood on the other side of the room and he immediately let them through into the VIP lounge.

"Santana!" Rachel called at the sight of her. It didn't take long for Santana to locate her, sat in their usual spot with Puck and a stranger on either side of her. Santana took Quinn over and the two of them dropped down onto the sofa opposite Rachel. "This is Blaine Anderson, Kurt's boyfriend. We've already established that he wants me to feature on one of his songs in the future. Isn't that great?"

"I never said…," Blaine trailed off with a look in Rachel's direction. He sighed and apparently decided he didn't want to burst the bubble of Rachel's everlasting happiness, "Never mind. Hi, guys."

"I'm Santana and this Quinn," Santana introduced the two of them.

Suddenly, Kurt appeared at Quinn's shoulder, "Oh, guys, you've spoilt it. I don't have enough drinks now."

He placed the tray on the table and began sharing out the drinks for everyone. Rachel turned to Kurt as he sat down and cackled a laugh. While her attention was diverted, Santana reached across the table and grabbed the drink that Kurt had placed in front of her before she could get her hands on it. Rachel turned back and her mouth dropped into a gape. Santana shrugged, "We're drinking in moderation tonight, anyway."

Puck looked wistfully over at the bar, "Remind me why?"

"Because we're working tomorrow, dumbass," Santana slapped at the foot that he lifted and rested on the glass table in the middle of them. "You excited, Quinn?"

"Yeah, you guys are going to kill it!" she cheered and took a sip from the drink Santana stole from Rachel. She took Santana's hand and stood up, "Dance with me."

Santana's eyes widened a little at the request—not only was she surprisingly the kind of girl to go out late at night…she was going to dance with her too?—but allowed the blonde to pull her to her feet and lead her off in the direction from which yet more thumping music was coming. The VIP areas dance floor. Puck put a hand on Santana's wrist and shot her a meaningful look and a wink. She rolled her eyes at him. Of course he thought that's where her thoughts would be.

When they were close enough that they could finally tell what song it was Quinn turned gleefully to Santana, "I love this song!"

And then the pulling on her arm had increased tenfold and Quinn was all but dragging Santana onto the sparse dance floor.

"Quinn, you dance like my mother," Santana shouted over the song that was playing to the girl who was swaying in all directions with her hands high above her head. Santana didn't quite know how to describe it besides being a few jolting movements short of an epileptic fit and she was glad on Quinn's behalf that they were on the VIP dance floor and not the normal one. There were a lot less people back there.

The other girl giggled but it was drowned out by the music so she shouted, "You'll have to show me something better!"

Santana raised her eyebrows and tried to ignore the thoughts that were suggesting Quinn was being flirty.

* * *

"Kurt and I are going to head home now," a dishevelled looking Blaine Anderson appeared from nowhere, leading Kurt by the hand. He picked up the wallet that he'd left with Santana and Quinn when the two boys headed off for the dance floor and raised a hand in a wave.

"Be good Kurt," Santana called after him as the boys walked away, "Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"That doesn't limit me to much," Kurt shouted back a wave over his shoulder at the girl who he hadn't known until earlier that day. Perhaps Santana had a reputation.

Santana shuffled away from Quinn, whose shoulder she'd been leaning against for a good twenty minutes…maybe more. But if she stayed like that for much longer her excuse of being tired from dancing was going to expire. "You want to go, too?"

Quinn shrugged and checked her phone. "Oh, God. We probably should. It's just gone midnight."

"Yeah but since we're all working tomorrow we're allowed to cut out early," Santana winked and stood up, offering the other girl her hand which she gladly took and allowed Santana to show her the way out, even though Kurt had only just gone in that direction so she full well knew where to go.

* * *

"And here it is…" Quinn said dramatically after unlocking the door. Santana looked at her blankly and Quinn giggled, amused by her disinterest. She threw the apartment door inwards and stretched her arms. "My apartment!"

"Woah, Quinn," Santana breathed sarcastically, "I've never seen anything like it—oh, wait."

"Shut up, it's special to me," Quinn laughed, "It's all my own, which hardly anything is."

Santana frowned at her. What was that supposed to mean? She was a grown woman, surely most things were 'all her own'. "OK, grand tour time. Here we have the majestic living room, kitchen and dining room mixture. Signature of an expensive apartment: the need to squish everything in one room. But you've…decided to turn it into a library?"

Quinn giggled again and Santana sighed to herself. She was going to have to stop doing that if she didn't want Santana to faint from a cute-overload. "Well, no. I've got my TV and my laptop as well as all the books."

"_All the books_. That doesn't even cover it, Quinn. You probably actually have more books here than the local library," Santana said and for once she wasn't joking. She went over to the bookcase and her eyes ghosted over the titles of the thousands of books. She was glad to say she'd read a few of them…or recognised the titles at least—it was close, right?

"Hey…I know I said you could come in and look around but it's pretty late…," Quinn suddenly sounded anxious. Santana looked away from the books and into the girls eyes, where she could see the novels reflected back at her. Was she suggesting…? "You could stay here. We're going to work tomorrow at the same place, after all."

"Sure, sounds good," Santana grinned, "I'll just call the limo driver and tell him I don't need him. And that he needs to get me from here tomorrow."

"OK, then," Quinn said and disappeared into one of the rooms branching off the triple-function main room of the apartment. Santana pulled out her phone, made the call and when she hung up she stood lost in the room for a minute.

"Quinn?" she called hesitantly.

"Yeah?" the girl shouted back. Santana followed the direction of her voice and knocked on the door of the room she was inside before walking in. Quinn was bent over her bedside table turning the light on when Santana stepped inside. She'd changed clothes when she was on the phone and was now wearing a cute pyjama top and shorts set with unicorns printed on it and the words 'prancing queen'.

"Hot PJs," she choked a laugh. "So you're going to bed? Am I sleeping on the couch?"

"Yeah, I'll get you a blanket," she said and opened up the built-in-wardrobe on the wall opposite her bed. She was momentarily swallowed by the clothes before reappearing with an armful of hairy blankets, "In case you get cold."

"Erm, thanks," Santana took the covers from her, "See you tomorrow, I guess."

And with that she left the room, bidding Quinn a good night. Now that she thought about it, accepting Quinn's offer was a bit stupid if she wasn't even going to stay up and talk to her for a bit…she might as well have slept on the comfy bed in her five star hotel.

She dropped the blankets onto Quinn's sofa and went over to the bookcases, searching the titles again before finding the one she was looking for. Santana knelt down and pulled out Quinn's copy of _The Best Time of Your Life _from the bookshelf. She turned it over in her hands for a second. It was practically the same as Berry's except it didn't have the dog-eared affect Rachel had gone for.

She took it over to her makeshift bed and arranged the cushions around herself, pulling the blankets over her body and snuggling down to continue reading it after finding where she'd got up to before Quinn called her out.

* * *

"Get away from me! You don't know anything about me!" Santana sat bolt upright at the sound of Quinn's shouting. She raised an eyebrow and wondered if she was on the phone. But no, it was way too early in the morning for that and she doubted that Quinn would speak to anybody like that ever. She put the book face down on the sofa next to her so she could pick it back up where she'd left off and got up to go to Quinn's room.

She opened the door without knocking and peeked inside. Quinn was thrashing around in the bed shouting about God knows what with her arms flailing everywhere. Santana hurried over to her and grabbed hold of the girls arms, lying them flat and next to her body before putting a hand to her face.

Quinn's whimpering and shouting quickly subsided and a peaceful expression took over her features again. One of her eyes slowly opened. "Santana?"

"You were having a bad dream," Santana smiled down at her, "Shh, go back to sleep."

Quinn shook her head, "The same dream will come back…"

"One second," Santana said and rushed out of the room. She grabbed the book and came hurrying back, jumping up onto the bed beside Quinn and sending an earthquake through the mattress. "I'm here to keep the dreams at bay!"

"You're not sleeping tonight?" Quinn asked amusedly.

"You've written a real page turner," Santana said with a grin. "Do you want to talk about the dream?"

"I…," Quinn started but cut herself off, debating it. "I just felt like I was back in high school. I think its nerves about you guys doing your read through tomorrow."

"Was your high school life like Adriana's?" Santana asked, biting her lip. She sure hoped not after reading about half of the book before Quinn started shouting.

The main character—Adriana, the one Santana was playing—was tormented and bullied for being fat and a loser by the girl Santana had initially thought was going to be the love interest; ignored, disliked and even occasionally beaten by her Christian parents for being gay and had the lowest self-esteem Santana had ever been subjected to reading…even if she didn't read much. It was almost painful. The girl hated herself and had forced herself into an eating disorder and basically, from what Santana could tell, everyone was telling her she wasn't allowed to be who she was.

She really hoped Quinn hadn't been through this. She could vouch for how horrible it was, relating partially to Adriana's story…but not completely. Her high school life was a breeze compared to hers. And possibly Quinn's. "A little."

"Oh, Quinn, I'm so sorry," she breathed, unsure of how to handle the deep direction the conversation was going. Santana wasn't good at emotions. "But you got through it, right? And you came out of the other end just fine."

"Yeah, after I changed myself," Quinn grumbled and looked away from Santana. She couldn't tell if Quinn's eyes were red or if it was the bad lighting.

To that, Santana didn't know what to say. She couldn't tell her she was perfect the way she was if she'd changed, could she? That would be like confirming her high school bullies. "You don't have to be someone you're not with me; I'll love you even if you turn green and sprout warts."

Quinn chuckled at the joke but Santana sensed that the laughter sounded empty and forced. Even in her relapse into high school depression—that's what Santana guessed it was, anyway—she was still trying to make _her _feel good. The girl was an angel. She tried not to think about the fact that she'd told Quinn, practically a stranger, that she'll 'love' her no matter what. Damn her and her big mouth, they were hardly even friends.

Yet here she was, sat on Quinn's bed. Was that strictly true?

"The reading tomorrow will be fine. This isn't you reliving high school, OK? You can let go of that now; you've moved on and you're a huge success now. Famous!" Santana cheered, using her hands to draw Quinn's mouth up into a smile, "OK, fine. Not as famous as me…but famous still."

"Shut up, Santana," Quinn finally laughed and batted the Latina's hands away. "I'm going back to sleep now."

"You do that. I'll be right here when you wake up. Probably still reading," she smiled and waved goodnight to Quinn as she wriggled to get into a comfy position again.

Santana looked sadly down at the girl's peaceful face with something stirring inside of her. She looked so innocent and young in her attempt to fall asleep. What kind of people would want to tear apart someone who was so beautiful inside and out?


	3. Beginnings

**AN: This chapter sort of just builds on what we have and up to more.. exciting things. Soon we'll know how they met before! either the next chapter or the one after that I'd say, depends how I split them up.**

* * *

**Better Forgotten**

**3. Beginnings**

"Santana," someone was calling her name. She groaned and pulled the covers that she was lying underneath over her head, blowing out a sigh. Why was it she could never wake up on her own accord nowadays? "Nope, you're waking up."

"Go away, Rachel," she growled and tightly held onto the quilt that the girl was trying to drag off her.

"_Rachel_?" a stunned voice snapped. Santana furrowed her brow. No, the girl was right…she didn't sound like Rachel. Was Santana still asleep? She smiled at the thought. But then last night came rushing back to her.

She pulled a face and slowly peeled the covers off herself, pushing away her thoughts telling her that she wouldn't have been so easily persuaded to get up if she wasn't trying to impress Quinn. "Sorry, I forgot where I was."

"No problem," Quinn said happily and stood up off the bed. Santana noticed then that Quinn was already fully dressed, hair brushed and a dusting of make up covered her face. She tore her eyes away from the blonde, looking adorable in her floral dress and cardigan, to check the time. "Crap!"

"I know…I felt bad waking you though. Sorry," Quinn bit her lip and backed away from Santana when the Latina jumped out of bed and hurried around the room in a whirl before stopping. What was she doing? She had nothing here to change into, anyway.

"Its fine," Santana replied, leaving Quinn behind in the bedroom on a hunt to find her phone. It was lying on the coffee table in front of the sofa Santana was originally going to sleep on. She picked it up and her fingers skittered across the screen, dialling a number, "Hey, Emma. Yeah, can you stop off at my hotel room and pick me up some fresh clothes before coming over? And maybe coffee and a bagel… Chad knows the address; he came here twice last night."

She brought the phone away from her ear with a frown and looked up to see Quinn staring at her.

"My assistant," she gestured to her phone, "She'll be here in a few minutes with the car."

"Great…," Quinn still looked astonished.

* * *

"OK, that's all for today," Artie Abrams, the director who'd been sitting boredly in his wheelchair for most of the read through, grunted. As chatter slowly broke out around the circle of tables, Santana watched him turn to Quinn. A hand gripped onto her arm and drew her eyes away from Quinn.

"That was so good!" Rachel said giddily, sitting beside Santana. "I lucked out with this role…people might stop trying to cast me as the bitch soon."

"Yeah, you're practically off book already. Although you don't have many lines," Santana said drily, trying to focus back on Quinn and Artie's conversation. Artie Abrams was known for having opinions on _everything_. No doubt he had very particular ideas about what dialogue needed changing and what scenes should be cut and he was very…to the point.

"Shush you, I may not be the main but there's still a huge buzz around me for this," Rachel rolled her eyes and took hold of Santana's hand as she got to her feet to leave the production office. "I've got a talk show later, in fact."

"Let me know when it's on, I love watching you in interviews," Santana said slyly with a wink. They walked hand in hand out of the building and got into their separate cars. Santana jumped slightly when she looked up and saw her ginger assistant sat on one of the car's leather seats, staring at her with large eyes. "What?"

"Have you seen Perez Hilton?" she asked and pulled her iPhone out of her pocket without waiting for an answer—of course Santana hadn't seen it; she didn't make a habit of checking up on boring gossip. She tapped around on the screen before handing it to Santana who raised her eyebrows at the picture but began reading.

_She's kept us in the dark for a while!_

_After she and dancer Brittany S. Pierce broke off their long lasting romance, Santana Lopez's dating life suddenly became private._

_However last night we saw her stepping out of her limousine with this foxy blonde on her arm!_

_The blonde is none other than Santana's latest movie's screenwriter and is also author of the novel it's based on._

_Perhaps Miss Lopez should look elsewhere for her girlfriends._

"No one believes a word he says, anyway," Santana shrugged and handed the phone back to her assistant.

"Well, that's not true is it, Santana? And even if this is true I don't think your publicist would advise showing it off," Emma said stiffly, tapping at her phone agitatedly again. "We're going to have to do some damage control."

"Great," Santana blew a sigh. That meant talking to journalists. Which meant more lies were going to spiral—and they were going to bring up Brittany again even though it had been at least a year since they broke up.

"You're booked in for that Elle Magazine shoot tomorrow so we'll do something about it then. Rehearsals should begin in a couple of days," Emma told her, absently flicking non-existent dust from her blazer.

* * *

"So everything went OK, you didn't disagree with any of his decisions?" Santana admired her fingernails as she asked Quinn the question.

After leaving the read through, Santana had returned to her hotel and hadn't left her room except to have dinner with Rachel in the hotel's restaurant, which was just as well because she'd woken up on her owns terms and was now fully rested for her magazine shoot.

"Not at all," Quinn mumbled, her words mostly drowned out by the noises Santana's assistant, Emma Pillsbury, was making as she rushed around Santana's hotel suite. Who knew what the woman was even doing. "I knew he was a very…_opinionated _director. But that's just because he knows what best…and he truly does; he's brilliant."

"Good," Santana threw Emma a look when she started fussing around with the bed Santana was lounging on. "Listen, my assistants losing it so I have to go to this magazine shoot. See you tomorrow, maybe? I'll have my driver arrive at yours for 6:30 PM. Dress up."

"Wha—," she heard Quinn stammering but the phone was pulled from her ear by a frustrated ginger who quickly cancelled the call.

"You can't be late for this, Santana, much as you think it makes you seem more important," Emma snapped and put her hands on Santana's wrists, pulling her off the bed and leading her to the door.

"You're right, crazy pants. This is why I hired you," she laughed good naturedly at the woman's anxiety when she still didn't let go of Santana when the elevator doors closed after them.

* * *

It seemed as though Santana's hate for Barbie dolls had come full circle. She'd been dressed and redressed repeatedly the whole afternoon with her make up constantly reapplied and her hair undergoing way too much careless heat. At least the stylists made her look good…even if they were pains as they went about it. They seemed to forget she was a living, _feeling _person.

But now that the actual shoot was over she was left bored in her little chair, tapping away on her phone with her hair left in its final sleek, slightly waved style and the last round of make up still applied. They'd let her have her clothes back at least, rather than having to sit around in the drafty robe they'd given her.

Emma was sat in an identical chair beside her, eyeing the people huddled around a computer screen looking through the pictures they'd taken of Santana with her foot tapping against the ground. All that was left was the interview.

"Hi," someone said from next to Santana. She looked up in surprise at the woman who dropped into the seat opposite her. "Sorry you've been kept waiting. My name is Clarissa Milton. Let's get on with the interview, shall we?"

"OK," Santana muttered, putting her phone away.

"There have been rumours that you've moved on from your relationship with Brittany S. Pierce," Clarissa got straight to the point with a tight smile. Santana raised her eyebrow but decided to answer the not-really-a-question question.

"Of course I have, Britt and I knew it wasn't going to last forever and we were both heading in different directions. I moved on a while ago and she's still one of my best friends—we just don't get to see each other that often," Emma laid a hand on top of Santana's, silently signalling that she was doing well. She'd even managed not to snap at her for the 'question'.

"And you're with someone else now?" Clarissa hedged, quirking an eyebrow in desperate need of plucking.

"I'm taking time out from romantic relationships right now to properly focus on my career and friends. I've started accepting a lot more bigger roles than I used to," Santana felt Emma release her grasp now that was over with.

"Yes, you were fabulous as Johanna Mason," the interviewer seemed to perk up at the thought. "How was it to work with an Academy Award winning actress?"

* * *

The following evening, Santana glanced in the mirror one last time before walking smoothly out of her hotel room—a massive accomplishment considering the height of the heels she was wearing. She'd paired them with a red dress, a bit of jewellery and a fur coat for good measure. No one was dressed down in this hotel's restaurant.

She entered the restaurant and headed over to her table, smiling when she saw Quinn was already seated and wearing a black dress, perfect for most occasions. "Hey, Q."

"Hi," Quinn visibly relaxed when she saw the Latina pull out her chair and sit down, "They gave us the alcohol before I could say no…I don't know if you want it."

"Oh, yeah. They just bring that anyway; it's my favourite," Santana shrugged and took a sip.

"I'll admit, I was a little terrified when your assistant showed up at my door and started telling me what to wear. I didn't even know what we were doing," Quinn replied, one of her legs bouncing up and down beneath the table. Santana frowned.

"Good old Emma," Santana looked into the other girl's eyes. "Relax, Quinn. What are you so nervous about?"

"I feel completely out of place here," Quinn took a generous sip of her wine. "I didn't when you took me out last night but in here…"

"You've got less eyes on you in here, you know? Most guests here are in the same situation as us or don't care about celebrities 'cause they're think they're the shit," Santana said matter-of-factly. "Talk to me about the read through, again."

"You mean about the…anxieties I was having?" Quinn looked down at her hands that were fumbling with the stem of the wine glass and swirling the deep red liquid inside it. "I didn't feel like it was directed at me or anything."

"OK," Santana tried to hold the girl's eye contact but she looked down again. "And it didn't make you uncomfortable?"

"No, I don't think so. I think you're right—this might make me feel like I've reclaimed something. I don't know." Quinn looked across the restaurant at all the other customers chatting quietly and laughing over their food and wine. Something changed in her eyes and when she looked back she smiled. "So, what are you ordering?"

* * *

The few days of rehearsals passed and Santana buried herself so deeply into her work that she hardly had social time between becoming Adriana, sleeping and humouring Rachel when she begged her to go over the last third of the movie with her—they were Rachel's big scenes. Her only ones, really.

She and Quinn dined at the hotel restaurant a few more times together, Quinn more at ease each time she came, apparently beginning to get used to Santana's high life but they hadn't _really _seen each other for a while.

So as Santana sat in her limousine with Emma talking incessantly at her and handing her multiple sheets of paper—including her schedule and heavily annotated script—she couldn't deny that she felt excited. And not just because it was the first day of proper filming.

According to the schedule she was looking over, they were going to begin with all of the scenes shot in the school because that was the first set built…so Santana's bullying was going to get pretty bad very quickly.

She stepped out of the car and walked towards the building, "Hey!"

"You made me jump, hobbit," Santana said fondly as Rachel came up beside her with her assistant in tow. "What are you doing here? You don't have any scenes until at least the third day of shooting."

"I'm here for moral support, when things get tricky. Just like I will be at the end. The Rhiannon to your Adriana," she smiled up at Santana, talking about the character she was playing. Rhiannon was the one to help Adriana out in the end of the movie, the one who turns things around.

As soon as they were officially on the grounds, a production assistant swooped down on Santana and forced her off to her trailers for make up and costumes. Rachel winked at her and followed closely behind to provide entertainment while Santana underwent the boring task of being remade.

* * *

When Santana was finally finished in her trailer and was back on set, the crew had everything set up and lit. They ran through the scene quickly to check everything was OK and then it was official; they were going to shoot the first scene.

Santana stood rigidly on her mark and caught Quinn's eye for a second. She was biting her lip and her eyes were wide as she looked back. Santana tried to push away her thoughts; it was bad to put so much pressure on herself but she badly wanted to do this well for Quinn. She didn't want to disappoint her. "Action!"

Everything fell silent as Santana let herself fall away, stepping into Adriana and as she did so, she forgot about Quinn. Her shoulders hunched and she clutched her books as she walked down the 'school hallway'. Extras nudged her and ignored her and she finally made it into the classroom.

"OK," the loud voice called as soon as she did so. The crew shifted to focus on the room that she was walking into, "Places. Action."

* * *

"Santana," Quinn bobbed into view. Santana smiled up at her from her where she sat with Rachel. They'd finally finished shooting for the day and were just hanging around waiting for the OK to leave. "You were absolutely brilliant!"

"Well," Santana grinned. She was channeling more of that acting again now, hiding from Quinn how happy she was to hear her say that. "I know."

"I didn't feel like it was me I was watching…but not in a bad way. It was totally believable," Quinn grinned at her. Rachel frowned; she hadn't considered Quinn might start turning into a fan…

"You know, Rach and I are going to a charity gala in a couple of day's time. You should come with us," Santana remembered. Emma had only been shoving the gala down her throat earlier. You've got to have the perfect dress. Blah, blah, blah. "I've got a plus one."

"I don't know…" Quinn bit her lip, "I don't exactly fit in with your world."

"Q, you can't say no when it's for charity! And besides, Blaine's going to be there for entertainment, then sit with us after and he's not completely used to this stuff either," Santana shrugged, "You guys can be nervous together. You can come to my hotel room beforehand and my stylist will sort you out."

* * *

**Again it disappoints me that there's not enough room to thank everyone for favouriting and following however it really is so lovely to see the brilliant response to this. But this would be way too big with individual shout-outs, so just know that every one of you is appreciated! Thank you so much for reading.**

**And yeah, don't shoot me for putting Santana in the Hunger Games. She's a famous actress guys! haha. Besides, I saw a few people saying they actually wanted Naya as Johanna.**

**_Gleek4Snix:_**_ thank you! And also, yeah Quinn is a bit less...bitchy and confident than she is in the show but I'm glad you don't mind that! And as for your plot guesses: hehe, all shall be revealed soon._

**_ErosEternaGlee:_**_ thank you so much for the lovely review! and also your comment was well needed, you gave me the kick that I needed to put some more effort into the celeb part - although already they were going to have some movie stuff going on in this chapter. But as you can see, you gave me an idea or two to make it more celebrity hahah._

**_Joylinda, Boringsiot, TakeMyBreathAwayTwoTimes, ineheram, KeepCalmAndKlaine_**_ and Guest (x2)**:** thank you so much for the reviews, its so nice to see what you guys think of the story and as I said before, it won't be long until we discover when they met etc. and yeah **Boringsiot **they do hit it off pretty quickly.. but everything happens for a reason ;D_


	4. Suspicion

**Better Forgotten**

**4. Suspicion**

Santana was sat in her director's chair while the crew made last minute adjustments to the lighting, her eyes anywhere but her frantic ginger assistant who hadn't put the phone down for twenty minutes straight. She was finding the perfect dresses for Santana and Quinn to wear that night but, for now, Santana was more preoccupied with the day's filming.

Today was the most important scene that they would do inside the school, besides the one when Adriana first walked the halls after her transformation. They were shooting the scene where Noelle gets so deep under Adriana's skin that she practically pukes up an organ and ends up in hospital. Santana wouldn't usually be so nervous for something but it was such an important scene and she wanted it to be perfect for Quinn.

They'd already filmed the coverage for Noelle's side of the conversation and all that was left was Santana's part, then they were done. She ran a hand through her hair before noticing Shelby Corcoran, the assistant director, approaching her. "Everything's ready now, Santana."

Santana nodded and put her bottle of water down, avoiding looking over at where she'd last seen Quinn. "Has Hillary already gone home?"

"Yeah, she left after we shot her side of the argument," the AD replied with a shrug. Since Hillary wasn't actually going to be in the shot, she wasn't required for this but with it being such an important scene Santana had assumed she'd stick around for her to act against. Especially since Hillary wasn't a very well-known actress and had been trying to win Santana over for the past few weeks.

Santana blinked a few times to clear her own thoughts from her head and stood on her mark while the crew fiddled around a few seconds longer. She heard Shelby shout "Action!" and the cameras whirred to life.

The script supervisor stood behind the camera opposite Santana, reading off Noelle's lines in an almost perfect monotone. She tried her best to suppress the irritation that was flaring up inside of her and continue acting but how was she supposed to act well against _that_?

"Cut," the AD sighed and pushed her way past the camera crew. "Santana, we need your best efforts today, OK?"

"I know," she huffed, "But it's hard to get a good performance going when you're arguing with something as emotionless as Kristen Stewart!"

"Why does today, of all days, have to be the one where you turn into a diva?" Shelby muttered under her breath. Santana's mouth fell open and a sharp retort was on the tip of her tongue when a soft voice broke in.

"I could read against her…if you want?" the person suggested. A bewildered expression crossed Shelby's face and she stepped back so that Santana could see that, yes, her suspicions were correct. The voice belonged to Quinn. "I mean, I'm not the best actress but I'm pretty familiar with Noelle's character…because I created her."

Shelby raised her eyebrow at Santana, "Let's try it then, Quinn."

She ushered the script supervisor away and Quinn took their place, opposite Santana. She turned away from Shelby's smirk and got back into position when Shelby called for action.

"Hey, tubbers," Quinn called, her voice suddenly going from soft to sharp in an instant, her eyes narrowing. Santana froze in her tracks, just as scripted and slowly turned around to face Quinn. "Quick, Ella, go get some water. We've got to keep her wet until we can throw her back into the ocean."

Santana pretended to struggle to look the other girl in the eyes, her shoulders hunched. "Noelle—"

"Don't worry, lumps the clown, we'll protect you from any poachers that might mistake you for the endangered white rhino, right girls?" Quinn laughed spitefully and even looked left and right, at the 'girls' stood at her shoulders. A strange feeling was crawling up Santana's spine and she couldn't put her finger on it. "Oh…maybe not."

"Please, just leave me alone," Santana breathed out, her eyebrows furrowing as she looked at the girl in front of her. It was hard to believe that it was the very same person she'd grown used to spending so much time with. Quinn had completely transformed into the monster of a character she'd created.

"I try, Adriana, I really do," Quinn smirked as she spoke, as if she—as if _Noelle_—was enjoying tearing her apart, "But seeing you drag your giant ass down these corridors everyday just makes it _so hard _not to feel bad for you…"

Quinn let the comment hang in the air for a second, while Noelle was supposed to be approaching Santana to intimidate her. Santana was still staring at Quinn, most of it acting but…not completely. Quinn was so into it. Santana almost felt like she really was personally attacking her and she couldn't help but wonder if this is how she felt when she was in high school herself. Of course, she knew that Quinn didn't really mean it.

"By the time you get home aren't you just exhausted? Seriously, it must be like carrying around a stack of bricks everywhere you go. It's almost hard to look at you…"

She carried on and Santana shrank into herself, something coating over her thoughts that only Quinn's harsh words were penetrating. Something about what Quinn was saying was so very familiar all of a sudden and it was sending waves of nausea through Santana.

"We don't need to leave you alone, hun. Why don't you do us the favour? Go back to the ocean with your loser friends. Oh, I'm sorry. What friends?"

At that moment the pieces in Santana's brain slowly began to fit together.

Quinn giggled to herself. Santana let tears sting in her eyes, her breath coming uneasily. Quinn's laughing filled her ears and she spun on her heel, running down the fake corridor and pushing into a door into where the bathroom set was. Shelby shouted for them to cut and Santana froze in her position, waiting for them to readjust things and sort out the fake vomit for the next scene but in her head, Quinn's words were swirling.

She had a sickening feeling that she knew why they sounded so familiar…

* * *

"So," Isabelle Wright stared at the two girls sat on Santana's hotel bed with piercing blue eyes. "I've brought you each three options to choose from. Santana, these are yours. Quinn, these are yours."

The stylist gestured to the two piles on either side of her, lifting the top dress from Santana's pile and unzipping the bag it was in and handing it to her before doing the same with Quinn's. Quinn took it and bit her lip, looking around the room uncomfortably. Santana laughed lightly, "You can change in the bathroom, if you want?"

Quinn nodded thankfully and hurried off. Santana felt like she could finally breathe with the girl gone from her side. They hadn't really spoken properly since they'd shot the scene earlier that day but both girls were tense. Santana hoped she was wrong about why Quinn's words were familiar but she knew she had to find out for certain and she had hatched a plan—she needed to get Quinn to let her stay at her apartment again after their night out. But until then she needed to act like nothing had changed.

She had no idea why Quinn was so on edge, though…maybe she suspected that Santana recognised the speech? She better not, everything would fall apart if she did.

As Isabelle was holding Santana in her dress, there was a quiet click of the bathroom door and Quinn pulled it open, stepping into the main room. Santana felt her breath fall away from her and any worries that the day's filming had caused disintegrated.

Quinn was wearing a strapless champagne coloured dress which ghosted down her figure perfectly, falling to the floor in a waterfall and illuminating her skin. Even without the rest of her done up to match her face, Santana had never seen anything better than Quinn right there. She was an angel. As soon as Isabelle saw her she clapped her hands and started chattering over Santana's stunned silence. "Oh, sweetie you look perfect. If we got some jewellery on you, curled your hair and we could do a red lip to add a splash of colour. Oh, you'd look gorgeous. Santana, she's going to be stealing your spotlight!"

"No one takes the cameras off the queen," Santana found her voice again to defend her honour, "You look beautiful, Q."

"Thanks," she smiled and looked at the floor bashfully, "You look good, too."

"Ah, Quinn, you're not ready to be a stylist yet," Isabelle finally looked away from her and over to Santana, "That dress won't do. Q, honey, can you get the second dress out?"

Quinn nodded to herself and shuffled across the room so she didn't accidentally step on the hem of her dress. Santana watched her over her shoulder with a small smile as Isabelle helped her out of the dress she was wearing. Perhaps it was going to be easier to pretend nothing had changed than she'd first thought.

Quinn unzipped the bag, pulled out the dress and went over to Santana. She shifted the dress into the other girl's hands, avoiding looking her in the eyes or at her unclothed body. Santana didn't mind; it made it easier for her to gaze at Quinn without her catching her doing it.

Quinn finally looked at Santana again when she had the dress on and a smile sprung onto her face, "That's the one. Right, Isabelle?"

"That's definitely the one," she confirmed. Santana frowned and shifted to the side so she could see herself in the mirror. The pale pink of the dress softened her features and the rose detailing on the bust was far from anything she'd usually pick…but, she had to admit, it made her look good. "OK, subtle make up and sleek hair, I think. And minimal jewellery."

Santana nodded and glanced at Quinn who was still staring at her, her expression almost surprised.

"Well?" Isabelle snapped, suddenly impatient. Her eyes bore into the boy and girl who were stood beside each other at the edge of the room. Santana had completely forgotten they were there. "What are you waiting for? I've told you what I want doing, you agree don't you, girls? OK, good. Let's go, we only have a few hours!"

* * *

Isabelle had finally managed to get her assistants to do the girl's hair and make up how she wanted and they'd selected the shoes that were going to be burning blisters onto their feet all night. From beneath the piles of clothing, Isabelle pulled out a briefcase and popped it open, hunting through it. She handed Santana a ring and a pair of earrings before smiling at Quinn. "Don't lose these."

Quinn looked nervously down at the stylist's hands, which were holding a big necklace and bracelet, the first of which she started trying to fix onto the girls neck. "This is too much!"

"Q, she likes you. Get over it," Santana laughed to herself and tore her eyes away from Quinn's beauty to glance at her phone when it buzzed again. Apparently Rachel was getting fidgety.

"OK, I think you're ready, girls," Isabelle stepped back to admire the pair of them. "You make a stunning couple. Um...pair."

"Finally," Emma Pillsbury stood up with a sigh. And she'd only got there about an hour ago. She took the clutch bags that Isabelle was waggling in the air, one for Quinn and one for Santana, and ushered the girls out of the room. "Rachel and Kurt are already waiting in the limo."

Emma led them to the elevator where she pressed for the lobby. They waited in silence and Santana looked at Quinn in the mirror. She still seemed nervous but now it was for different reasons. Santana put a hand on her arm, "It's OK, Quinn. It's not like an awards show, or anything. You don't actually have to talk to anyone."

Quinn nodded but followed Emma out into the lobby without a response. Santana shrugged to herself and went after them as they passed into the workers quarters and down a staircase to the car park below. Santana caught Quinn's arm when she wobbled, trying to navigate the staircase in the ridiculous stilts Isabelle had passed off as high heels. The weirdness of the day seemed to wash off Quinn in that instant and she smiled, slipping her hand around Santana's.

Having not bothered to find a space, when they came out of the door at the bottom of the staircase, they were immediately faced with the large black limo. Rachel's driver appeared instantly and opened the door to let the girls and Santana's assistant inside.

"Quinn, you look fabulous!" Rachel gushed as soon as the door was shut behind the girls and they'd managed to seat themselves without crumpling their dresses. Her gaze left the blonde and settled on the girl sat beside her, "Santana!"

She enveloped her in a big hug. "Hey, Rach," Santana said and disentangled herself. "You look good."

Kurt was tapping away at his phone and Rachel elbowed him, "Put it away, Hummel. Your boyfriend needs to practise."

"OK, OK, fine," he sighed and slipped the phone into the pocket of his trousers, offering Rachel a fake smile.

* * *

It was a relief when the car finally pulled up at the end of the red carpet and they knew they'd finally be able to get out. Limos may be bigger than usual cars but when cramping three girls in evening dresses and a guy in a tux inside along with assistants, space suddenly seemed scarce. At least, for people who were used to travelling in practically empty limousines.

Someone opened the door to the red carpet and the cool air rushed inside, allowing Kurt out first. A small round of cheers went up and the flashbulbs started going off when he appeared. "So, fans still managed to find out about it."

"There's not that many," Santana shrugged in reply to Rachel while they waited to give Kurt a little bit of a head start. Rachel peered through the blackout glass of the windows and smiled to herself, getting out along with her assistant when Kurt was far enough along and earning herself a slightly louder cheer.

"Fans of what?" Quinn asked quietly.

"Well, this is a pretty big event. There's going to be a lot of people you recognise inside. So…fans of them," Santana put a hand on Quinn's shoulder, "You'll be fine."

"But I'm not famous," Quinn looked at the open door with a creased forehead. Santana stared at the girl, so concerned. In that instant she didn't even care about what she might discover later…she was just Quinn. Adorable Quinn, "No one will want a picture of me. I should just wait in here and find you guys later."

"Santana," Emma broke Santana's train of thought, "Your turn."

"Come on, then, Q," Santana held out her hand for Quinn's and made to get out of the car. Quinn's mouth dropped open—this wasn't the deal.

"Santana—!"

"Nope, come on," Santana shook her head and grabbed the girls hand and pulled her out of the car behind her. Fans cheered in recognition, holding their phones higher and Santana offered them a wave.

"You can do a minute of signing," Emma sighed and Santana grinned in triumph. Emma had said she wouldn't need to, that the fans wouldn't be there for her but there were a fair few people wagging pictures of her and shouting her name.

With hers and Quinn's hands still connected, they went over to the barrier holding back the bobbing teenaged girls and Santana heard someone shout "Quinn!"

She turned and looked at Quinn whose face was white with shock. "You've got a fan, go talk to her."

Quinn shook her head in astonishment and went over to the girl who was staring intently at her with a notepad and pen. While Quinn talked to her, Santana allowed a few pictures and signed autographs for fans but Emma quickly found them again and ushered them up the red carpet for pictures.

They stopped in front of a group of people wielding cameras, smiling with practised red carpet smiles. "Come on, girls. Pose together!" one of the paps shouted to them and Quinn slipped an arm around Santana's waist, earning herself a surprised grin—Santana was not about to refuse. Perhaps talking to the fan had made her a changed woman.

"Santana," she heard Rachel call her name, "Get in here!"

Rachel was now stood with Kurt in front of their own group of flashing cameras, so Santana tugged Quinn over and the group posed together before Kurt and Quinn dropped back to let Santana and Rachel have their own pictures and the flashing went crazy. Rachel laughed loudly and put an arm around Santana, egging them on.

* * *

"Kurt, your boy is on _fire_," Santana clapped quietly in Kurt's direction but he missed it as his eyes were still locked on Blaine up on the large stage. Spotlights illuminated him and threw the rest of the room into a dim light, mostly supplied by the arrangements of candles in the middle of all the tables. Blaine was sat behind a glossy black piano and had already played a number of songs; his set was nearly done.

"Oh, my," Quinn said under her breath beside Santana. She turned to look at the girl who had just taken a generous sip of the white wine in front of her and followed her gaze. "Is that really Adele?"

"Crap, where?" Kurt's attention was finally brought away from his boyfriend, whose hair was mirror-like in how much light the coating of gel was reflecting. "I hope Blaine didn't put Make You Feel My Love in his set list…"

"Everybody enjoy your meal and remember to donate. It's been a treat for me to be here," Blaine said before starting up the next song, which wasn't an Adele song, thank God. Waiters suddenly started swirling between the tables with arms full of plates. They distributed them out across the tables and someone reached past Santana to refill her wine glass.

Blaine finished the song and stood up to take a bow before leaving the stage and the small orchestra took over for entertainment. Everyone tucked into their starter as Blaine wound his way towards them and sat down in the empty chair between Rachel and Kurt, his beetroot and goat's cheese tart ready and waiting.

"Sorry we're bit late," a voice said as the other empty chairs at the table were also pulled out. "Good to see you again, Santana."

"Hey, Mercedes," Santana grinned at her as she took her seat along with Mike Chang, who had been a dancer in the same music video of Mercedes' as Brittany. Santana felt a wave of nostalgia cross her as she remembered how Brittany had so eagerly dragged her along to the videos shoot. "And Mike. Looking as good as ever."

Santana suddenly felt Quinn's hand on her arm. She turned to look at the girl just as she ducked close to Santana's ear and whispered, "Oh, my God. This is better than Adele. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know," Santana replied with a laugh at Quinn's starstruck expression. "Mercedes, Mike, meet Quinn. Best selling author."

"Quinn…as in Quinn Fabray? You wrote the book for the film this lot are in?" Mercedes asked with her face lighting up. Quinn nodded slowly. "I love your book! Girl, you have got talent."

"You have no idea how much that means to me," Quinn managed to sound completely calm, even though Santana knew she was suppressing a tiny squeal.

* * *

"San, can we go?" Quinn asked quietly. She was leaning sleepily against Santana's shoulder and watching all the famous people mingle in front of her now that they'd finished the rest of their meal. They'd made one round of the room and Quinn was completely exhausted from smiling and gushing so much.

Santana looked down at her and smiled, "Sure, I'll call Chad." She pulled her phone out and quickly dialled the number for her driver and asked him to come get them. "He said he's close so it'll only be a few minutes."

"OK, good," she said before going silent. Santana could almost _feel _her thinking. "Thank you so much for this, Santana. I would've never imagined experiencing anything like it."

"Well, I'm glad you could," Santana replied and tried not to think about earlier, when they were on set…and how Santana knew those words that Quinn had been saying. She really hoped she wasn't right about why she knew them. "You deserve something like this in your life."

"Hmm," Quinn sighed. Santana felt her phone vibrate in her hand—Chad texting her that he was ready for them. She felt a pang inside her chest. Every second brought her closer to the moment she would discover whether she was right…and she was dreading it. What if she was?

"OK, we can go," Santana said and Quinn dozily lifted her head to look at the other girl.

"Do you want to stay at mine tonight?" Quinn asked quietly, "I'll make you breakfast in the morning or something...to make up for you bringing me here."

"That sounds perfect."

* * *

Once they were in her apartment, Quinn quickly set up the sofa for Santana to sleep on and disappeared to get changed. Santana had thought she might just let her share her bed, since they'd already had a sleepover…but it'd make it easier for Santana to do what she needed to do if she could access the whole of her apartment.

"OK, I'm going to turn the light off now," Quinn poked her head out of her bedroom door and chucked something towards Santana, "Here's some PJs for you to borrow. See you tomorrow!"

And the door clicked shut behind her, leaving Santana alone with her mission. She wanted to stand there and forget about it, or at least relish the last few moments of ignorance because she had a feeling she was right about this.

But she couldn't put it off any longer, so she got to work.

She started with the desk: routing through the drawers and the papers stacked upon it but everything in there was work related—drafts, research and so on. With a frustrated sigh she stood back and looked around the room…where next?

Her eyes skimmed across the titles of her books in case she could see anything helpful. She looked at the arrangements of pictures in little ornate frames dotted around the room but they were recent images of Quinn with a small mix of people and one of all three of the strangers together.

She hunted through a small cupboard but it was just full of rugs and spare sofa cushions. As she was standing up she began looking around again but her hand caught on something. She turned around and saw a door that she hadn't paid any attention to before—sure, everyone had cupboards. Slowly, she turned the door handle and tried to push the door inwards but found it wouldn't budge.

She raced into the bathroom and returned with a hair grip, dropping to her knees and inserting it into the lock. After a few seconds of twisting and fiddling, she heard the door click. A strange sense of triumph and regret overtook her as she bit her lip and opened the door to the closet so gingerly, as if she thought someone was going to be hiding inside.

At first all she could see was a supermarkets-worth of all sorts of unhealthy food and drink…but then she spotted a pair of large, thick framed glasses sat on top of a small leather book.

And then next to them something that made her heart sink.

* * *

**Santana knooows! Sorry if that was a bit confusing or anything. I kinda wanted the great reveal to be when Santana's certain shes right so I had to write crap about "she hoped she wasn't right", so I hope it didn't confuse any of you.**

**Thank you so much to the people who've favourited, followed and reviewed again! It really means the world to me, thanks so much.**

**ErosEternaGlee: **well I hope I put enough feelings in here for ya D: I know I dont really do it much, oops. True actually, Santana does seem to have a thing for blondes! Thanks for the suggestions, I'll see what I can do! haha

**boringsiot****: **oopsy, it took me a while to write it hah. And hmm, Rachel. I wonder, could you be onto something there? ;-)

** .9: **Johanna is one of the people in the quarter quell! how could you forget; shes the bitchy one haha. Thank you so much for the compliments!

**PleaseDeleteThisAccount123455, Guest (x2), Quinntana2, **and** Shenanigan: **Thank you so much for the comments, they're so encouraging. And **Quinntana2**, we shall see next chapter...but you can probably already guess haha.


	5. On My Way

**AN: I just thought I'd clarify as someone was wondering - this is most certainly Quinntana endgame, don't worry your pretty heads.**

* * *

**Better Forgotten**

**5. On My Way**

Santana didn't need to give her feet the conscious instruction to move; they took her over to the little picture frame on their own accord. She craned her neck and stared at the image behind the glass, not wanting to pick it up or touch it in anyway. A sick feeling was churning inside her stomach and threatening to rise even further the longer she stared at the picture.

Quinn _Fabray_. She couldn't believe she hadn't picked up on it. How common was the name Fabray? Not very.

The thick glasses sat beside the picture were worn by the girl smiling half-heartedly at the camera, a grin not quite meeting her eyes and the glass of her spectacles doing nothing to distort their emptiness. Santana's eyes ghosted over the girl's messy brown hair scraped into childish bunches and reaching just past her collarbone where she focused on the girl's sweater.

Anything to take her attention away from the girls face.

Because even with the sprinkling of acne, the _much _more obtrusive nose, a different hair colour, glasses sat on her nose and the defined features of her face coated by her plumpness, there was no denying who Santana was looking at.

Lucy _Q_ Fabray.

Santana felt her eyes sting and she blinked a few times to clear them, assuming the dust of the cupboard was getting to her. She reached out a hand and the glasses fell into them, her breath catching. Feeling how very real they were confirmed Santana's worst nightmare: Quinn was the very same Lucy Fabray that Santana had known in high school.

She swallowed hard and lifted up the small leather book that the glasses had been sat on top of and left the room.

She shook her head to clear the images of Lucy's picture surrounded by tonnes of unhealthy food from her mind. Quinn must have kept that stuff in there so that she wouldn't be tempted to eat it and gain back her weight…or if she tried, the picture might be a deterrent.

Santana slumped onto the sofa that she was meant to be sleeping on and the leather book fell open on her lap, revealing lined pages full of handwritten entries. It must be some kind of journal...

_I'm supposed to be doing math right now but I can't concentrate. Not with her sat in front of me, swishing that silky black pony tail around like there's no tomorrow. As if it's not enough that she makes a point of coming up to me in the corridors to tell me exactly what she thinks of me.  
__Why can't she just leave me alone? I suppose some days, she does. And it's sad to think that the days where she does ignore me are the better ones… because she is the _only _person who talks to me. Even when it's not really talking.  
__The days she doesn't call me out for whatever I've done to her now are the days I speak to no one at this school—when I am completely invisible. And they're the best it gets.  
__I wonder how many people feel like that.  
__But then those days are a rarity. It's part of her daily routine; to make fun of me. I wonder if it makes her feel good about herself…if my self esteem is transferred to her when she takes it away from me.  
__It used to just be about my weight. I thought that was bad but not anymore. At least then she was attacking something I could change about myself—something I _was_ working to change. But now it's my glasses, my nose…my hair. I can't get anything right. She's attacking me for _me_. Who I am and I can't change that.  
__And when I leave school I have to go to my house where I'm a 'waste of oxygen'. Where I'm sinning because _I'm not attracted to boys_.  
__But that's not the problem. The problem is that I keep looking at Santana Lopez like she's a saint even though she tears me apart every single day. What does that say about me? About how I think of myself?  
__She makes me feel worthless but I want to be her…to be with her, just once. And I don't want to feel anything anymore.  
__I know they say that it gets better. But how can this get any better?  
__That bitch has ruined my life.__  
_

Santana hadn't even realised she was crying until a tear fell from her face and onto the empty space at the bottom of Quinn's rant, punctuating it with a big full-stop. Her hands shook as she tried to close the book.

If Quinn hated her so much…why would she cast her as the main role in her film? She cast her as _herself_, for God's sake. It hurt her brain, dredging up the old memories that Santana had tried so hard to forget.

"What are you doing with that?" a cold voice said from across the room. Santana's head snapped up to see Quinn stood by her bedroom door with a fluffy dressing gown pulled tight over her now-thin body. A chill crept down Santana's spine and her mind raced.

What should she say?

"Erm…Quinn…," Santana came up blank, blinking rapidly at the girl awaiting an explanation.

"A bit of late night reading?" Quinn suggested, her eyes practically burning holes in the book's cover she was staring at it so hard, "Because I'm pretty sure that was locked away where no one would find it."

"But Quinn—"

"You're still going to call me Quinn?" the blonde asked, laughing coldly, "Not one of the hundreds of nicknames you came up with? Tubbers, Orca, Juicy Lucy, Lucy Caboosey—"

"If you're still so bitter about it, why cast me as the main in your movie? Like you said, you had a huge amount of control over casting," Santana reminded her, getting up from her position on the sofa and staring the girl dead in the eye.

"Well, surely you can understand that…I wanted you to feel _exactly _like I did, even if for you it was acting. I wanted to put you in my position and make you see what it was like. Who'd have known I would've got to be the one bullying you in one scene," Quinn shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest.

"But you _knew_! And you _went out with me_!" Santana's voice shot through the octaves and into a near shriek. Quinn winced but shook her head. "Don't you think that's slightly creepy?"

"It's all about control, Santana. You taught me that. In the end, it was going to be me in control. To end things and see you finally in pain," Quinn said. "Although, I must admit I am partially grateful that you helped me realise Lucy wasn't who I was—you were the whole reason I became Quinn. So I do owe you for that."

Santana gaped at her. From her time as Adriana, Santana could guess that in high school Quinn had an eating disorder to get as slim as she was. And she was _thanking _Santana for that? She felt ill. And after reading what Quinn had written, she knew just what a bad place the girl had been in. '_How can this get any better?_' She'd written. But there was no point arguing with her, Quinn was clearly delusional.

"But Quinn, from these past few weeks you must be able to see that I've changed. I'm not the person I used to be and I regret everything I ever did to you. When we finally left high school I couldn't stop thinking about it…so I kind of blocked it from my mind altogether. I was just so horrible to you and I never should have been. I am so_, so_ sorry. And surely that's better than revenge?"

Quinn stood silently, looking at Santana as though she expected more and her face was blank. She was completely unaffected by Santana's apology.

"But someone helped you out in the end, right?" Santana hedged, looking for the happy ending here. If her book was closely based on her life, just like Rhiannon helped Adriana out while she was in the hospital and after, eventually the two of them ending up together…surely someone had done that in the end for Quinn.

"No. I had no Rhiannon. I wish I did but I was all on my own. No one visited me when I was in hospital until the day my parents showed up to take me home," Quinn said, finally some emotion appearing on her face. Her eyes were starting to brim with tears and she blinked quickly to clear them away. "No, this is _wrong_. You can't have control again; this is me getting something back!"

"Quinn," Santana said calmly, approaching the girl slowly. She put out an arm to hug Quinn as she shook but dropped it. Bad idea. "Come on, I can help you through this. I can help you get over it in a _healthy _way."

"Santana!" Quinn shouted her name, freezing Santana in her tracks. Their eyes locked together and, for once in her life, Santana felt intimidated. Quinn was off the rails. "You _ruined _my life. Get out of here. Right now."

And suddenly Quinn's hands were on Santana's back and pushing her out of the door. When the door slammed shut behind her, Santana turned to face it. She was half glad to be out of there and away from the psychotic girl…but at the same time she was worried for her. What would she do to herself alone with her thoughts?

In the end she knew standing in the hallway outside Quinn's apartment was pointless. She wasn't going to let her back in and she couldn't save Quinn from herself out there. So she got out her phone and called Chad to take her back to the hotel.

When she was finally lying in what she now thought of as 'her own bed' she couldn't get to sleep. Every time Santana closed her eyes she could see Quinn's face, looking at her like she could see right through her and in her ears she could hear her voice pronouncing the words she'd read. _That bitch has ruined my life_. But if she opened her eyes, the shadows of the dark still managed to merge together and form Quinn's face.

She rolled over and pressed her face hard into her pillow, letting out a groan.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

When Santana showed up at work the next morning she had faint circles forming under her eyes and had thrown a hoodie on in the rush out of the door. It may have meant that she annoyed the make up and hair people more than usual but she couldn't wait to get on set and find Quinn.

Except that when she got there the blonde was nowhere to be seen. She asked Shelby, the assistant director, but she said she hadn't been in all morning. Santana sighed and settled into her chair. Of course Quinn hadn't shown. Why hadn't that crossed Santana's mind…she didn't have any obligation to be here _really_.

Rachel sat down next to her and flashed her a wide smile that made Santana wince. She was too bright for this time of morning. "Wow, someone got out of the wrong side of the bed this morning."

"Shut up, Berry," Santana muttered, "I wish I hadn't had to get out of _either _side."

But that wasn't strictly true.

If she'd stayed in bed all morning past her alarm then the dreams about Quinn driving at her in a van would've never ended.

"Wow, OK. What's up with you?" Rachel asked and put a hand on Santana's elbow. She shuffled her arm out of her grasp and focused her eyes on the guys fiddling about with the lighting.

"Nothing."

* * *

A week later and Santana was sat in exactly the same position in almost exactly the same clothes, this time the circles under her eyes crying even harder for concealer. She had her phone in her hand—it had been pretty much ever-present the whole week with her lighting up the screen to check for messages every few minutes.

But still no word from Quinn, even though she'd left her numerous texts and voice mails. She was starting to worry about her. It felt like years it had been years that she'd been seeing her every day on set…except there was more truth to that than she'd known before.

Santana glanced up from her phone to check on the filming progress. Right now they were shooting coverage for Adriana's father—shouting at the poor girl, of course. Adriana didn't have anything to look forward to and that thought made Santana very uncomfortable; Adriana was Quinn.

They'd switched from filming scenes inside the school to her house in the week Quinn had been absent. There weren't many more inside Adriana's home, either. Soon they'd be onto the hospital and a few shots of random scenes at the mall and so on. Things were nearly over.

Rachel sat down next to her and gave her the same smile she'd presented her with all week. "How are we today?"

"The same."

"You don't have to tell me what it's about," Rachel patted Santana's hanging hand. She frowned. "Well, its obvious isn't it? You get moody the first day of Quinn's disappearing act and she's not come in since. Something happened between you two the night of the charity gala, I'm guessing."

"Well done, boy hips. Anything else?" Santana snapped.

Rachel blinked and leaned away from her. "Wow, OK. You don't have to tell me _why_…I just wondered if I should see if I can get in touch with Quinn for you."

"Really?" Santana lifted herself slightly from her slouched position, eyes finally moving away from either her phone or her fake father.

"I'll take that as a yes, then," Rachel laughed to herself, "OK, leave it to me."

* * *

Rachel came to Santana the next few days as they began shooting inside the hospital, each time with the news that she hadn't managed to get to Quinn that night but she'd try again… "I'm sorry, Santana. I don't think she's going to talk to me. I want to her apartment and everything."

"It's OK, Rach, you tried," Santana sighed and Rachel nodded, taking that as her dismissal. The silence didn't last long, though because Rachel was quickly replaced by Kurt standing at Santana's elbow.

"You want me to try?" he asked, "I could get Blaine to help…the two of them seemed to bond over the fact they were in the same boat."

Santana blinked. They were far from ever being in the same boat. There was nothing screwed up about Kurt and Blaine's relationship from what she could see and it made her so jealous. She had to admit that from the few weeks she'd spent with her, Santana had grown very close to Quinn. It was hard for her not to fall back into that mindset without her there reminding her why she hated her. "You could try…"

"We will, don't worry," Kurt smiled and sat down beside her, pulling his iPhone out of his pocket, "Check out this cat Blaine and I bought. He lives with me because my schedules less hectic than Blaine's, believe it or not…"

* * *

The Friday following Kurt and Santana's conversation, she wrapped her last major scene. The ones after that were just smaller parts for montages and so on like shopping with Rachel's character. Everyone applauded and Rachel even hugged her, the sense of the movie drawing to a close finally setting in but Santana couldn't lose herself in their celebrations.

It felt weird enjoying the fact everything was almost over when Quinn hadn't even been there to oversee things. Sure, she was probably watching some of the dailies or whatever Artie was sending through to her and editing devil horns onto Santana's head, if she knew how, but it still felt wrong.

Kurt tapped at her shoulder and when she saw him her eyes lit up expectantly. "No, no, Santana. Don't give me that hopeful look—she wouldn't see us."

"Oh…well, at least you tried," she said, almost repeating exactly what she'd told Rachel.

There was nothing else she could do. As soon as she left the studio she was going to Quinn's apartment. She could not leave things like this, even if she hadn't a clue what she was going to say to her.

Finally everyone began to leave the building, their cheering over and done with. Santana got into her car and pulled out of the parking lot, already a nauseas feeling growing in her stomach and sweat clamming up her hands. She was glad she'd finally hired a car so not even her driver could see her like this.

But also Chad couldn't mock her for hunting poor Quinn down.

And so when she pulled up the tell-tale limousine wouldn't give her away to Quinn or any nosy paparazzi.

No matter how strongly her brain was trying to tell her this was a bad idea, in her heart she knew she had to.

* * *

**And there it was: the big reveal. Although a lot of you guessed anyway haha. **

**Sorry there were so many time jumps in this but Santana was just waiting around a bit there. As usual, thank you so much to the new favourites/followers/reviewers, your support means the world to me. And also the people who've carried on with this story, thanks everyone! **

**ErosEternaGlee: **heh, well your question has been answered. whoopsie!

**Rainezeik: **aw thank you! And I hope you saw your question answered up the top.

** : **woah a review in a foreign language, thats exciting. I've never had one of those before! I google translated what you said and even if its a pretty crappy way of doing it I got the gist. Thank you!

**Boringsiot**, **Ryoko5: **thanks for the reviews, they were both so sweet!

**thebword: **hahah I'm sorry. I'm glad you liked her fangirling! And also you gave me reason to finally look up what HBIC actually means. I can't believe I hadn't just guessed..


	6. Against It All

**Sorry this is so short but I wanted to get to a good ending point. Now that I've got to go to classes again I'm going to try to update weekly (at the weekends) but if I don't manage it, its cause i'm snowed under with work..or I've had my brain on sponge mode so much i'm tired or something.**

* * *

**Better Forgotten**

**6. Against It All**

As she drove to the other side of LA, the rain started. First it was so light Santana barely noticed it, what with all the other things buzzing through her brain but by the time she was crawling down Quinn's road, squinting at her apartment building through the windscreen, the droplets were the size of acorns and bashing noisily against her windows.

The thundering of the rainfall was finally loud enough to block out her thoughts.

She climbed out of the car and drifted over to the path that lead up to the door, somehow numb to the feeling of sodden clothes trying to drag her towards the ground.

Finally, sheltered from the rain, she paused. If Quinn wasn't coming to work…she clearly didn't want to talk to Santana. Especially if she wouldn't even talk to Rachel, Kurt or Blaine. Should she really hunt her down? It might make her even more angry.

But through her racing thoughts her hand found the buzzer. Only not for Quinn's apartment; she buzzed the main reception. When the call was picked up she acknowledged the smart move on her subconscious's part—Quinn probably wouldn't have picked up.

"Hello?" a voice crackled through the machine.

"Oh, right, sorry. I'm here to see Quinn Fabray. She lives in…um, 4C," Santana remembered.

"You should've buzzed her. We're only supposed to take calls from deliveries—"

"Just let me in," she snapped and the line went silent for a second. She was going to have to play _that _card. "My name is Santana Lopez."

Almost immediately the door hummed and there was a faint click. Santana reached forwards and pulled the door open, stomping into the reception and throwing the red-faced guy behind the desk a narrow-eyed glare. He quickly looked away.

She got into the open elevator and pressed for the fourth floor, waving sarcastically at the receptionist when he caught her eye just before the doors slid fully closed.

Now that the lift was taking her ever closer to Quinn her nerves were getting worse. She felt like she actually _might _throw up; nerves weren't something she was used to having.

But she'd grown so close to Quinn: they'd had dinner together in the restaurant back at Santana's hotel most nights; they saw each other every day on set; Santana had slept at her place a few times…she'd taken her out in public a fair bit. Looking at it that way, she could see why there were more and more articles claiming they were more than friends.

And with the public demanding an answer, Santana had been forming one in her mind. She had been going to formally ask Quinn to be her date to the premier of _The Best Time of Your Life_. That way they'd have their answer; she'd finally confirm if she said no but if she said yes…

The elevator doors pinged open and Santana stepped into the hallway, immediately faced with identical doors. She turned left and found 4C. There was nothing left standing in her way now. No more time for hesitation.

She quietly knocked against the door and heard movement within the apartment. Muffled footsteps made their way over and paused by the door. _Busted_; Quinn was checking the peep-hole.

"OK, I know you're in there and you can see me," Santana called through the door to Quinn. "I just came to clear things up."

"Go away, Santana," Quinn's voice came back hoarse, even through the thick wood.

"No, I'm not leaving until you let me talk to you," Santana crossed her arms over her chest.

"Can't you get it into your _thick head _that I don't want to talk to you!" Quinn's voice was suddenly so loud it was as if she was right next to her. "I haven't shown up anywhere I knew you'd be because I don't want to see you."

"But I don't want this to be our life—avoiding each other at every opportunity," Santana shook her head slowly, wondering if Quinn was still looking at her. If she was she'd be able to see the pool of tears forming in her eyes. She hastily blinked them away. "Quinn, please I—"

"_No_, Santana. You ruined everything. Even my revenge. You can't have _everything _you want. Just go," Quinn said, her voice suddenly calmer. For some reason her newfound peacefulness was more worrying to Santana than when she'd been mad. She opened her mouth to protest. "Leave. Me. Alone."

Santana sighed and gave in, heading back towards the elevator.

* * *

_Dear Quinn,_

_I know you hate me right now but please read the whole of this. I didn't come to you looking for answers just for myself. I think you need to understand a few things and part with your past. So please don't just throw this away, even if you're tempted._

_ I didn't bully you because of who you were, how you looked, dressed, acted and I know now it was stupid of me not to expect you to take it so personally. But when you told me everything you'd done was about 'control', that really resonated with me. Because that's why I bullied you: it made me feel in control and powerful._

_ I was in the closet for almost all of high school. To begin with, I didn't really guess that I was gay. I'd been with guys, I'd been with girls…the gender didn't make much difference to me when I was fifteen. But sixteen and seventeen were the years when it started to sink in—I was looking at the only openly gay girl in the school as if she was a freaking goddess. And, no offence, Q…but on the outside, you weren't (and please don't take that too harshly)._

_ So when I caught myself thinking about you, I knew I had to take action. I started sleeping with guys even more and let them use me. It made me feel absolutely worthless and like I had no say over what happened to me._

_ Then at the same time my parents had unrealistic dreams about me heading off to college to study medicine. They pushed me into getting A's and when I didn't get them, even if it was just a B, they'd let me know just how disappointed they were in me. I was so frustrated and I took it out on you._

_ You gave me an outlet for all my pent up anger and I thought that maybe if I forced myself to see the faults in you, it'd make me stop thinking about you in such a romantic way. Because even though you weren't half as hot as you are now, I still thought you were beautiful. And so courageous for being open about your sexuality._

_ I think that had something to do with it as well—I was jealous over how you could have the public knowing. If I'd told my parents, they would've been so disappointed. And I was so scared of being bullied that I didn't stop to think that if I stopped picking on you, so would everyone else._

_ I realise now that as bad as I thought I had it, you were so much worse off than me. I know exactly how you felt—how you feel—and it hurts so badly to know I was the cause of that. Please do not thank me for triggering your transformation into who you are now—you may think it's an improvement, but as I said, you were as beautiful to me then as you are now._

_ I know there is no way I can make up for such a massive wrong-doing. Like you said, I ruined your life. But I want to try, even still. I've welcomed you into my world and you saw you had fans! Quinn, you can help to change people's lives with your experiences. _

_ I really want to help you come to terms with things not only so I can feel better about how I treated you…but because I want to see you happy. I want to see you living the life you've always wanted._

_ Before all this happened I was going to ask you to be my date to the movie premier and, if you said yes, go public with the relationship—with your agreement, of course. Over these past few weeks of knowing you, I've fallen in love. With everything about you._

_ Please don't shut me out forever, Q. Just talk to me. I'll understand if you don't want a relationship as strong as what I do but please at least be my friend. I'll do everything I can to make your life a wonderful dream—a fairytale._

_ I'm horrified by how I treated you. So, please. Just talk to me._

_ I love you,_

_ Santana_

She climbed back out of her car with the letter folded in her hand and quickly shielded it from the continuous rain, tucking it inside her jacket.

Standing before the huge mailbox for the apartment building, her eyes scanned across the numbers until she found 4C and pulled it open, depositing her confession inside.

Slowly, she closed the tiny door and nodded to herself, heading back to the car.

The rain sunk through her clothes and mingled with the tears that streamed from her eyes so you'd never guess she was crying—she only knew because she'd been crying the whole time she wrote the letter.

She got into her car and started it up, ready to leave Quinn and all of her heartbreak behind. The windscreen wipers rushed back and forth to clear her view but the rain was so hard that it was still slightly blurred where they'd cleared.

She tried to blink her tears from her eyes so she could see better but they continued gushing, her having absolutely no control over her body.

Suddenly, her car was moving quickly to the left. Santana threw her hands back from the steering wheel in horror—she hadn't told it to go left! She turned her head to the right just in time to see the whole right side of the car crushing inwards and accompanied by a loud bang.

Glass shattered into her face and her head thudded back and forth against the headrest before she fell sideways into the window with a splitting pain breaking out across her skull, her hand screaming in agony somewhere from being bent the wrong way.

She must've missed the lights changing from amber to red.

Just before she blacked out, Santana saw Quinn's face smiling triumphantly at her against the back of her eyelids.

_Perhaps now she can be happy_.

* * *

**Definitely against it all eh. Thank you everyone whose now favourited/followed/reviewed, as I always say: it means so much to me. But also, thank you if you've followed or favourited me as an author. Because I check the stats on here and not my email, I hadn't realised anyone had.. so thank you so much!**

**ErosEternaGlee: **she wasn't a spy or anything oops I hope I didnt disappoint haha.

**Boringsiot: **yeah I suppose I should've included more filming to show what happened to Quinn. because I have it all planned out in my head I kinda forget you guys don't know as much as I do about her..I could try work it out and include it somehow i suppose. And when you say 'totally believable' I'm not sure if you're serious or not! haha. Of Quinn it is kinda believable though, i'd say. she was all over the place heh. thanks for the review!

**KeepCalmAndKlaine: **well you've got to have a bit of klaine! although i'd say my kurt and blaine have quite a bit of chris and darren in them (or what I've seen of them in videos and stuff). And don't worry, everything will be happy quite soon!

**Ryoko5:** aw thank you so much; I was kinda unsure about the diary entry and whether it sounded genuine enough.

**Shananigan**, **Guest **(x2), **Rainezeik: **thank you so much for the reviews, they really encourage me to write more!


	7. A Change of Heart?

**Better Forgotten**

**7. A Change of Heart?**

Quinn quickly put her dinner plate onto the tray she'd started eating off again since she stopped eating out at Santana's hotel and lifted it off the counter. On her way to the sofa, she passed her desk and her eyes lingered for a second on the letter she'd received about a week ago from Santana, the last time she bothered trying to see her.

Even though Quinn had told her to drop it and leave her alone, she was kind of sad to not have constant ringing from her friends or Santana herself knocking at her door. As much as Quinn liked to think that it annoyed her, having all that attention made her feel good.

Still, Quinn had only bothered—or _managed_, if she was being truthful—to read under half of the letter. She'd been hoping for a heart wrenching apology but, from what she could see, it was Santana complaining about how bad she'd had life. And Quinn couldn't believe that after she'd read and been forced to _act out_ the worst part of her life, Santana thought that their lives were comparable in any way. She'd stopped reading when she started moaning about her grades slipping.

Who was Santana to whine about that when Quinn had to take a few months out of school to get better after going to the hospital. Her grades dropped for sure.

So she walked right past the mostly-unread letter and sank down onto her sofa, pulling her laptop onto her knee. She'd tried to start writing again but every time she opened up a fresh document the cursor blinked at her until she closed the window in frustration.

Instead, she opened up her practically inactive tumblr account and started scrolling boredly through all of the posts from people she followed whilst having the occasional mouthful of food.

Suddenly, something whizzed past along with her scrolling that caught her eye. She stopped and went back up the page, her eyes darting across posts for the word she could've sworn she'd just seen.

Santana.

Even keeping her distance the girl managed to follow her everywhere. She finally spotted the name again and began reading the text post with a link at the bottom. Only when she carried on reading did she become so shocked she forgot to chew.

_Santana Lopez in hospital right before they finished filming the Best Time of Your Life!_

_My poor baby, I hope she's alright!_

Quinn frowned but clicked on the link the person had below their text. She was in such confusion _my poor baby_ slipped her notice.

The page opened to a 'news article' on one of the trashy Hollywood stalker sites.

_Actress Santana Lopez is reported to be lying unconscious in her hotel bed with none other than bestie Rachel Berry waiting diligently by her bedside. It's been reported that she still hadn't finished shooting scenes in her latest film and its yet to be confirmed what will happen to production in her absence._

_ There are rumours that director Artie Abrams has called to cut the last few scenes that are 'unimportant' or use existing footage to make up what's needed._

_ What do you guys think—should they wait for Santana to recover or do you want to see the film as soon as possible? And have you made your pick over which rumour you think is true regarding her accident?_

Quinn sighed and opened Google. What had she been expecting from that crappy website anyway? When she searched about Santana Lopez and 'accidents' thousands of results popped up, most marked within the last week.

Quinn quickly clicked onto a newspaper's website and read through that article.

_Many have speculated over how actress Santana Lopez ended up in her hospital bed last week: was it by accident or on purpose?_

_ A handful of witnesses all gave similar accounts of Lopez's behaviour being off lately and another claimed to see her storm into an apartment building followed by reported disturbances on the fourth floor before rushing back out and leaving in tears. That is certainly not the fiery starlet we're used to._

_ Fans have spoken out in sympathy for her, a large number assuming this was a suicide attempt however the remainder believe it was purely just another accident on the roads._

_ Perhaps the role she was working on was too full on and hit too close to home for her._

_ Either way, we have been told she's stable in the hospital surrounded by friends and family and is doing well, mostly unharmed. Co-star Rachel Berry tweeted the moment she woke up that it was 'the happiest moment of [her] life' and she 'wanted to let her fans known [she'd] come round'._

Quinn stopped reading, having all the information she needed: Santana left her apartment and ended up in the hospital with Rachel Berry by her side the whole time. She didn't need her and probably wouldn't want her. But she couldn't help feel responsible. If she hadn't been at her apartment…

_Accident or on purpose? _Quinn suddenly remembered reading. Perhaps she was even more of the cause than she'd been thinking!

Quinn flew across the apartment and snatched up Santana's letter, devouring the words on the page, reading and rereading them.

For a second, Quinn completely forgot about her situation and just let her words fully sink in. She'd thought she was _beautiful _in high school. She thought she was hot! No one had ever said something like that to her before…

Goosebumps broke out across Quinn's skin when her eyes settled on the last few paragraphs. Santana had said she'd fallen in love with her. What if she had some melodramatic thought about loving her and never being with her and it all just got too much and…?

Quinn couldn't even finish the thought.

She needed to find Santana. She pulled out her phone and called Rachel's number—apparently she was definitely going to be by her side.

But the call went to voice mail. "Um, hi, Rachel. It's Quinn. I heard about Santana and…I need to see her. So can you call me back?...bye."

She put the phone down and frowned, wondering what to do next. Sitting around waiting while Santana was in such condition didn't feel like an option. Even if the girl _had _made her life a living hell, she was responsible for this one way or another. If it wasn't a suicide attempt, she'd still been driving from her home.

She pulled her phone back out and this time dialled Kurt's number. He picked up on the second ring, "Quinn? Is that really you? Thank God."

"Thank God?" Quinn asked in confusion but the thought was pushed from her mind by echoing worries about Santana, "I'm calling about Santana."

"I was waiting for you to," he said, a smile in his voice. "I don't care if you've been sitting on this for a week or if you just found out. You have to get here."

"Why? Is something wrong? I was reading loads of articles and they were all saying this could be sui—" _cide _she finished mentally, unable to form the words when Kurt cut her off.

"No, she's the same. Get here fast," he said before offering room numbers and directions for when she was within the hospital, hanging up before she could even ask what he meant by 'she's the same'.

It wasn't the most encouraging choice of words.

* * *

Finally, Quinn forced herself to halt outside Santana's hospital room. Through the small window in the door she could see Rachel's back with Kurt stood to her side. Blaine was sat a little away from them staring at his phone while the other two faced the large bed which Santana was lying in.

Quinn's breath hitched. It was horrible seeing Santana lying in one of those wretched beds. Quinn hadn't been back in a hospital since she spent those months in one in high school and the place was giving her the shivers. But Santana in that bed made her heart ache.

Even though her heart should turn to stone when she looked at her.

She shook her head and took a deep breath before knocking on the door to announce herself and walking into the room. Kurt looked up immediately smiled at her but the rest of the room froze.

Rachel turned and saw her, her face drawing a blank like she'd never expected her to show up. Well, that was a reasonable assumption. She gave her a weak smile and Quinn returned it before her eyes skipped over to Blaine who was looking at his phone with even deeper interest than before…

Finally, she forced herself to look at Santana. She was gazing back at her in amazement but confusion clouded over her expression, her head tilting adorably to the side. Quinn winced. Where did _that _come from?

"Quinn," Santana said, her voice a quiet rasp. She cleared her throat and held her hand up to her to beckon her over. "Can we have a minute to ourselves, guys?"

Kurt nodded and took Blaine by the hand out of the door. Rachel put her hand on Santana's arm for a second before following after them with a backwards glance at Quinn.

Slowly, the blonde shuffled round to Santana's bedside. "Please tell me this was an accident."

"Of course it was," Santana said in confusion, her brow furrowing. Quinn nodded quickly, relief surging through her. Having Santana _accidentally _end up in hospital because of her was better than her intentionally harming herself on her behalf. "I was in a car crash."

"OK, good. There's just a lot of speculation. People are saying that it might have been a suicide attempt," Quinn said softly. Santana barked out a laugh. "No, of course not, you'd miss yourself too much."

"Quinn," Santana said in a warning tone. After a minute of silence she said quietly, "Did you read my letter?"

"I did," Quinn replied, remembering all of a sudden everything she'd read. Through her worry she couldn't think of much else but now it was all coming back.

"And?"

"Well, you can't expect me to forgive you, Santana," Quinn said seriously, "After everything you did to me…"

"I know, I wasn't asking that," Santana said hurriedly, "I just want you to at least tolerate me. Like I said, I'm willing to do anything and everything until I can finally make amends for it."

Quinn nodded slowly, looking down at the poor girl lying in that bed with nasty scratches covering her face and deep circles under her eyes. "I think I could do that."

"And do you want to talk about some of the other stuff I said…?" Santana asked quietly. Quinn was surprised to hear her hinting at that. If she'd written she loved someone in a letter and things had turned out this way she would not be bringing it up with them.

"OK, sure," she sat down on the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do with herself. Everything here was Santana's property and she wasn't sure how much of it she was allowed to touch, "So…I'm not sure I can be your date to the premier."

Santana chuckled to herself, "Don't worry about it. And it's still a little while off. Anything could happen."

Quinn shook her head at Santana's wink. "This is so strange, Santana. I can't keep up with it all. I can't understand what I'm feeling. And you acting like nothing's happened is making it harder."

"If you don't understand it, maybe something's changed. You don't feel the same way you used to," Santana suggested, her hand finding Quinn's and she didn't pull away. "But don't worry, like I said, I'm going to be here for you from now on. To make things better, to help you understand yourself and live the life you've always dreamed of. I don't care if you don't love me back. It's enough that you'll even look at me after everything I did to you."

Quinn digested her speech, goosebumps tickling along her arms and her eyes wandering from Santana's intense gaze. Just as she was about to reply with something lame, the door was thrown open and Rachel marched in.

"Sorry, I forgot my phone. We're going to get some dinner in, what do you guys want?" Rachel asked, coming over and picking her phone up off the bedside table. "Kurt's got the menu open on his phone if you want to see it, Quinn. You'd already decided hadn't you?"

Santana nodded and gave Rachel her order as Quinn drifted from the room and down to where Kurt was sat with Blaine's arm around his shoulders, the two of them gazing at the screen of his phone.

Out of Santana's hospital room Quinn immediately felt more at ease. Santana was so full on, sometimes it made her uncomfortable. And the fact that her brain was a complete mess wasn't helping. How could she resent Santana so much for what she did to her…but when she was sat next to her like that, all she wanted to do was hold onto Santana's hand and never let go.

Perhaps hearing about Santana's past had changed her.

Or the fact that she'd had a chance of feeling what it'd be like to completely lose her…

But even after reading that letter, Santana's life wasn't a patch on hers. She had no right to do that to her.

"Hey," Kurt looked up and snapped Quinn from her daze, "You want to pick your food?"

* * *

"How was it?" Rachel asked when Quinn's footsteps disappeared down the corridor outside of Santana's room.

She shrugged but her hands were clamming up from her excitement. "I think it was OK. She didn't try to bite me or anything."

"And you're sure this isn't just more of her game?" Rachel asked seriously. Santana rolled her eyes. "No, San. I'm looking out for you."

"Fine. But no, I don't think it is. She honestly sounded sincere," Santana said firmly and nodded again when Rachel looked sceptical. "Now, go away and order my food. You know I get cranky when I'm hungry."

Rachel shrugged and left the room with her pessimism, leaving Santana to celebrate in silence. She was sure that Quinn had been about to reply just before Rachel came barging into the room—perfect timing, as always. She couldn't guess what she'd been going to say for the life of her but she hadn't looked like she was about to run away from her or hit her in the face. So it was an improvement.

And she'd gone to look at the menu with Kurt, so she was going to stick around.

Santana grinned to herself. She'd have her sweetened soon—by the time the movie premier came around, Quinn would be on her arm on that red carpet.

* * *

When the food finally arrived, Rachel had sorted out the table that opened out across Santana's bed and fluffed up her cushions so she could sit up comfortably. She argued the whole time, apparently well enough to get out of the 'damn bed' and eat with the others but Rachel wouldn't let her.

She'd then set up a small table near her, so she didn't feel _left out_, for the other's to eat at, snapping at Kurt and Blaine the whole time to help her while Quinn stared gloomily out of the huge windows and Santana stared at _her_.

She'd thought she was coming around but she'd become so silent all of a sudden she wasn't sure. Hopefully she was just thinking things over.

Continuing her mothering role, Rachel dished out everyone's orders and got them all sorted around the table, leaving Quinn sat opposite Santana with a wink in the Latina's direction. The little match maker.

"What's going to happen with the movie?" Quinn asked through the awkward silence, only interrupted by the occasional noisy chew up until that moment. "You can't exactly act…"

"Artie said he was cutting a few scenes and using extra footage to make up the others with a bit of editing," Santana replied, glancing up at the blonde, "He wanted to check it with you but you were out of anyone's reach."

"I know, that's understandable," Quinn sighed. "So everything's going ahead the same as before?"

"Yeah. I'll be out of here in a few days, anyway, so I won't miss any of the publicity stuff. Besides, this will probably give it _more _publicity," Santana laughed, "That industry will do anything for a bit of disaster."

"You'll be out soon?" Quinn asked with surprise but then, looking at her, she seemed perfectly fine besides the nasty gashes on her skin. "Maybe we could do something together then."

"Sure you will. But just to be sure she's OK, the first few things on her list are with me," Rachel said with a big grin in Santana's reaction which the Latina returned with a wink.

Quinn caught the look between them and glanced away quickly, suddenly feeling like she was invading on something personal. She peeked back up and caught Kurt looking at her, a blush rising in her cheeks all of a sudden.

* * *

**I really will try to do a chapter a week but if I miss a weekend it's because I have too much homework or whatever. There's a lot right now, I just wanted to give you guys this one so bad because I left it in a worrying place haha. But by comparison this one looks all boring now.. just a bit of a filler chapter.**

**ErosEternaGlee**: haha noo! Like I'd kill her. and agh, sorry I did make you wait the whole week. I am getting so much damn homework and coming home late and everything so theres not much I can do but write it on the weekend :/

**Guest**: aw you knew my plot hehe. Nah I didn't want to have Santana in there too long, that'd make things boring ;D

**Rainezeik**: wooh I'm glad you liked it! I was worried I wrote it kinda craply so yay. And hm we'll have to see.

**Shananigan**: haha aw thanks! I thought I might've made it a bit Santana whining and being self-centred-ish so I'm glad you liked it!

**niccici30**: haha thank you and nope sorry I didn't update! I'm so damn busy so it's probably going to be just one per weekend. I hope I can make it that regularly to be honest… and no not a coma hahaha

**boringsiot**: ah good I thought it could've been sarcasm… and nah, Quinn doesn't seem to be so heartless eh?

**quinntanarivergron4life**: aw thank you so much! That's so sweet of you to say. And as for Quinn and Santana, we'll have to see heheh.

**silent12reader**: in her closed off period—like when she wouldn't hear from Santana? I think she was probably just moping around and throwing darts at pictures of Santana so I didn't write it haha. But I gave ya a bit of Quinnie perspective here…well, it was kind of necessary but still heh.

**Gay for Glee**: that's so nice of you to say that! I'm glad you liked it even if you didn't think you would, aw that makes me happy heheh. Thanks for the lovely review.

**Rtarara**: haha wow that's not so good for you but brilliant for me! Thank you, that makes me feel all proud of myself lmao.

**Guest** (x2), **prettygleekbitch**: thank you so much for the reviews. I love hearing your encouragement and thoughts and they really did give me the shove to get this chapter out this week even with all my damn work.


	8. Two Is Better Than One

**Better Forgotten**

**8. Two Is Better Than One**

_Finally_, Santana thought as she stepped out of the bathroom dressed in her normal attire—allowed, at last, to get out of the wretched hospital nightie she'd had to wear. Emma stood up from where she was sat and smoothed out her skirt before leading Rachel and Santana from the room.

"OK, Santana. No complaining but you've got an appointment with your stylist and to get your hair and make up done for tonight," Emma said quickly, just in case Santana was under any impression that her first night back out of the hospital was going to be spent relaxing in her bed. "Remember?"

"I remember you mentioning them. I _don't _remember agreeing," Santana huffed back and folded her arms across her chest. There was no point arguing.

"Hey, Emma," Rachel's assistant Terri fell into step beside Santana's with a sly look in Emma's direction and glanced over her shoulder, "The same for you, Rachel."

"Obviously—we're doing the interview together," Santana rolled her eyes.

"Lighten up, San, it'll be fun," Rachel grinned and slipped her arm through hers. Santana shrugged and let her lead her out of the building.

She had hoped to try to catch Quinn tonight and sort things out with her…maybe even start her little mission. She'd visited her quite a few times but only did when she knew Kurt and Blaine were there. Santana couldn't be put out by it though, it was enough that she visited at all.

As soon as they stepped out of the side exit of the hospital and into the bright LA sunshine, flashes popped from raised cameras and a chorus of voices started shouting random names at the group of four. Rachel put her arm around Santana's shoulder to shield her from the paparazzi and guided her over to the car that Emma and Terri were ducking into.

Santana slammed the door shut behind her in the faces of the paparazzi and the driver started pulling away from the curb, sending them scurrying in all directions to get out of the way. Santana smirked.

"Rachel, what did I say about your nails!" Terri said suddenly, snatching Rachel's hand up, "Stop biting them when you're worried."

"It's what a manicures for, Terri. What does it matter if you can't ever see her real nails?" Santana snapped at her, throwing Rachel a warning look. She'd lost count of the amount of times she'd told her to fire her stupid assistant. She was worse than a mother.

* * *

"OK, so are you all rehearsed with everything you need to say?" Terri butted into Rachel and Santana's conversation, a hand blocking Santana's view all of a sudden.

"Uh, yeah sure," Rachel replied and tried to lean away from her grasp.

"It's Ellen. You don't need to rehearse," Santana said in exasperation, "You need to get Terri out of here, Emma, she's going to make me lose my mind."

Emma nodded quickly and only too happily started pushing Terri out of the door before she could form an argument. Emma had never liked Terri either.

Rachel relaxed with her assistant out of the room and gave herself a last once-over in the mirror of their joint dressing room. There was an impatient knock at the door and Santana glared at Emma, "You tell that crazy blonde bitch—"

"OK, guys, you're on in three," one of the studio workers stuck their head round the door and disappeared, leaving it open for them to follow after. Santana stood up and offered Rachel her hand, ignoring the fact she could see Terri peering through the door at them.

* * *

"Our first guests…yes, there's two of them. Two of the biggest and hottest actresses in Hollywood right now, their latest film _The Best Time of Your Life _opening in movie theatres in a few months…please welcome Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry."

The crowd suddenly broke in a round of screaming and Santana and Rachel stepped out together with their hands linked, waving the other at the audience as they made their way over to Ellen who offered each of them a hug before sitting down. The screams continued from the audience and Ellen gave the girls an impressed look.

When they started to simmer down Santana laughed, "Well, I could get used to _that_."

And with that another round of cheering broke out.

"Don't break them, Santana, we need them awake for the end of the show," Ellen said when the room finally lapsed into silence. "It's so good to see you two again! And you're looking great—I thought I heard you were in hospital?"

"Ah, yeah," Santana laughed, "I was actually in a car crash."

"Yes, there's been a lot of talk about it. You wouldn't guess you've been in hospital."

"Oh, I know: the wonders of stylists. My only tip is to look at the road when you're driving," Santana shook her head.

"I saw your Elle Magazine spread," Ellen mentioned and the cover appeared on the screen, triggering another outbreak from the audience. "Is it weird to have people so interested in your personal life that there are rumours like that about you?"

Santana shrugged, "Its human curiosity. And I guess there aren't many openly gay women in Hollywood. Every girl I hang out with is immediately my girlfriend."

Ellen laughed and her eyes slid to Rachel, "Interesting."

"Oh, no," Rachel laughed and held up her hands. "Just friends."

"Very successful friends. I don't know how you two do it—you're probably a duo in more movies than anyone else. But, you know, your characters get together in this movie…"

Rachel let out her signature laugh, "I'm not Santana's type."

"I like my blondes apparently," Santana chipped in and a cheer broke out from the audience. On the screen a huge picture of Santana and Quinn hurrying out of the club together appeared and the crowd laughed.

"So this really isn't your girlfriend?" Ellen teased, "She's a looker, I wouldn't blame you."

"No, no, I'm single right now," Santana said with a flirtatious look at the audience.

"OK, guys, I've got a game for you now," Ellen reached behind her chair and pulled out four paddles, two pink and two blue and handed one of each colour to the girls, "This is traditionally played with couples but I thought we could adapt it for best friends. Rachel, you're the pink paddles, Santana you're the blue paddles. Whoever is the answer to the question—raise that colour."

* * *

"Who's the biggest flirt?" Ellen leant forwards in anticipation. Rachel immediately lifted her blue paddle and Santana reluctantly followed. "Really?"

Rachel nodded firmly. "Snix," Santana protested with a laugh.

Quinn was eased back into her sofa and watching the interview on the TV with a milder interest now she'd dropped back out of the conversation. She felt a bit put out by how easily Santana had dodged saying absolutely anything of substance about her—not even agreeing with Ellen that she was a _looker_—but that's how it had to be and she knew it.

Plus, being ahead of Santana in the game was hard. She probably thought she was winning again because Quinn went and visited her in the hospital. Although, Quinn had to admit, she had kind of liked visiting her. Through her pretending she'd managed to convince herself she liked Santana's personality…

"Who takes longer to get ready?" Ellen asked and both pink paddles went up.

"But _only _because she gets ready so late and has to rush," Rachel argued, "She's late for everything."

"So are you!" Santana shot back and Quinn laughed along with the audience before she caught herself and stopped. What was going on here?

She'd told herself that she was going to drop her hate for Santana and only see her if she had to. But here she was watching her on TV when she really didn't have to…laughing at her jokes.

Quinn watched as Santana smiled to herself and tossed her long dark hair over her shoulder, analysing any feelings that were stirring inside of her. Except she couldn't; she couldn't name them. Santana used to make her feel like this and here she was again and Quinn hated it.

"Who is the worst at keeping secrets?" Ellen's eyes glinted as she looked over the audience who stirred with 'oohs'.

A glance passed between Rachel and Santana before they both held up their pink paddle and Rachel laughed again, Santana shaking her head.

"I'm sensing there's a story to this," Ellen said and turned to the camera, "Perhaps we'll find out after the break. Santana Lopez and Rachel Berry everybody."

As the music began to play and the camera started panning away, Rachel went back to laughing—which you could hear over the noise of everybody else—and clutching at Santana's hand.

Quinn sighed and stood up, picking up the glass she'd been drinking from and turning off the TV.

* * *

The waiter set down Rachel and Santana's plates and quickly left them alone at Santana's table in her hotel's restaurant. The staff had become used to not waiting around for her to dismiss them like they used to. What wait staff ever did that, anyway?

"OK, so now, I've been meaning to ask you," Rachel said, stumbling over her words. Santana looked up in confusion. Rachel never had trouble with her words. "I know you played it cool on Ellen and everything…but I saw what you and Quinn were like before, then how her disappearance affected you, what you were like with her at the hospital and _now _how you reacted to her being brought up."

"Oh, crap. I was really obvious? On _public television_. Damnit Rachel, you could've helped me out couldn't you?" Santana snapped under her breath, not wanting to draw attention to them in the quiet restaurant.

"No, calm down Santana, it wasn't obvious or anything. Well, not to other people. I noticed because I know you better than anyone else," Rachel said seriously and Santana couldn't hold back the small voice that whispered _not as well as Quinn _in the back of her mind. Rachel only knew her better parts. "But I guess I don't need to ask you because you just answered my question: you totally like Quinn!"

Santana debated denying it. But what was the point. Rachel knew already and she wouldn't let up until she admitted it. "Keep your voice down, then. We don't want the whole restaurant knowing."

"Fine," Rachel breathed back, "Are you going to ask her out? She'd say yes; she likes you back!"

Santana couldn't help the smile that curled at the edge of her lips, "I don't think she would, you know."

"Oh, you've already tried?" Rachel looked put out. Santana frowned and decided to nod in response. She didn't want to go through the whole story with Rachel. Not when she'd only just been reminded of how rubbish Rachel was at secrets. "You're going to have to win her over."

"You know, genius, that thought had crossed my mind," Santana huffed, "I just don't know what to do…"

"Aw, Santana," Rachel put a hand across hers, a dumb expression taking over her features, "This is so cute. You actually have feelings for someone you can't get."

"Shut up, Berry," Santana snatched her hand back. "I've set myself a time limit, anyway. By the time we go to our movie premiere, we'll be together."

Rachel laughed and shook her head, "OK. I'll try to put in a good word for you, then. But otherwise, we're going to have to get thinking about what you can do…"

Santana stared at her. If she'd thought it'd be that easy to get Rachel's help she would've gone to her before…but then, there was the small complication that Rachel could never keep her mouth shut. About _anything_.

"When are you next seeing her?" Rachel asked suddenly, a smile widening across her face. Once Rachel set her mind on something she was worse than Santana.

"If she goes when we take the advertisement pictures…then, I guess," Santana shrugged, a sad smile on her face. She couldn't see her turning up, though. She probably wasn't required to.

"OK," Rachel smiled encouragingly, "Lighten up, San. We'll sort this for you."

* * *

**To everyone wondering about Rachel and Santana's relationship: guys don't take everything Quinn's perspective says as gospel! We know she's a bit cray cray.**

**Thank you again everyone who favourited/followed/reviewed. I'm hoping to give you guys more of a substancey chapter soon lol. And perhaps a longer one..but again I do have a load of work and I'm all snuffly and ill right now too :(**

**boringsiot: **yeah thats exactly the reason it wasn't a very bad accident. and its so weird that you should quote No Scrubs in your review, I literally just rewatched the episode where glee cover it!

**niccici30: **hm yeah she's not too sad but Santana's not very harmed so I didnt think she needed to be sad D:

**kissmehardbeforeyougo: **with her car? hahaha wow. no she didn't I'm afraid. I've not made her that much of a lunatic!


	9. On Edge

**Better Forgotten**

**9. On Edge**

Rachel broke away from Santana and stepped through the line of cameras, replaced by Hilary Danes who was now taking pictures with Santana, throwing scathing glares at her character's enemy over her shoulder.

Quinn shifted in her seat, her ass going numb from sitting in the same place for so long. When Artie said he needed her there she thought she might do more than spectating. Rachel skipped over and took the seat beside Quinn, turning a bright smile on her which Quinn ignored. As if she wasn't in pain enough already.

Finally, Rachel sighed and made a show of leaning closer to Quinn. "Are you enjoying the shoot?"

"I love watching other people having their picture taken," Quinn muttered in response. In truth, Quinn knew she came across as cold and distant to people she didn't know very well…but she wasn't the best at socialising. And she was sick of the inside of that room.

"Well, true. It must be pretty boring," Rachel was oblivious to her harsh tone, "But Santana's looking good, isn't she?"

Quinn raised an eyebrow and finally looked at Rachel. She had a small smirk on her face, as if she knew she was poking at an open wound…Santana had told her. They'd been laughing about it behind her back. "I suppose."

"You suppose?" Rachel said in astonishment. Quinn felt something inside her sinking; Rachel obviously liked Santana. She'd known it before but it had only been a suspicion. And for some reason the knowledge that she couldn't compete with Rachel's freshness and the simplicity their relationship had made her upset. "That make up team could make _anyone _look hot. Doesn't it just make you want to date her—"

Quinn felt her mouth falling to a gape and snapped it shut again when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder, "OK, Quinn. We're ready for you."

Quinn stood up, thanking the lord for the interruption and followed Santana's assistant over to where she was standing herself. Quinn looked down to avoid eye contact and turned her back on Santana, feeling the heat roll off her now she was gone from view. Rachel was right—the make up team had _certainly_ made her look good. The photographers dismissed Emma and the other actors made their way over to Quinn and Santana. Quinn looked up in confusion, "I'm having my picture taken?"

"We're having a cast and Quinn picture," Santana's voice was in her ear all of a sudden, causing her to flinch and the photographers started arranging the cast around Quinn. One man stood in front of her and smiled, taking Santana's arm and looping it around Quinn's waist.

"Erm," Emma's voice came from somewhere behind all the cameras, "I'm not sure Santana's publicist—"

"Never mind, Emma," Santana cut her off and waved the quizzical photographer away until they were all stood behind their cameras ordering for smiles. Quinn felt Santana's loose arm tighten around her waist and couldn't help shooting a glance at Rachel who she found was looking over at them.

Something was definitely going on here.

* * *

There was a harsh rap at her door followed by a shout of, "Santana, let me in."

Santana groaned and slid off her bed, tightening her dressing gown around her. She'd grown used to Rachel not announcing who she was—her stern yet chipper tone was a giveaway.

She opened the door and Rachel pushed her way inside, sitting down in the chair like she usually did, "Nice of you to dress up for me."

"I hadn't expected company," Santana replied and flopped back onto her bed among the hundreds of pillows, "Was a whole day not enough of me?"

"I didn't see you much today," Rachel pouted slightly but a big smile took over and she leant forwards, "Besides, I have exciting news."

"Oh?" Santana said with disinterest, her phone in her hand already; Rachel was excited by very small things.

"I did what I said," Rachel stared at her with an eager expression, as if Santana could decode _that_. She saw Santana's confusion and sighed. "I put in a good word for you!"

"With Quinn?" Santana's phone was lying face down on the bed now.

"Of course! I think she ate it up."

Santana bit her lip and looked into her friend's eyes. It was hard to trust Rachel's instincts and Quinn was a very _complicated _person…

"Well, OK, what next?" Santana slid to the end of the bed and Rachel rolled her eyes.

"You're expecting me to devise you a plan to 'get the girl'?" Rachel asked and melted into a heap of hysterical laughing. Santana's eyes flashed and she flung one of the dozens of pillows at Rachel's head. "I'm sorry! It's just, Santana, sweetie…you aren't exactly new to this dating stuff. You've used your charm plenty."

"I know," Santana looked down at her hands, unable to look Rachel in the eyes anymore in case she laughed again, "It's just Quinn…she's different. I don't want to do anything wrong or mess this up. I really like her and I want her to really like _me_."

"Aw," Rachel cooed and made her way over, sitting down and sending a tremor through the bed. She took hold of Santana's hand, "You really like her? OK."

"OK?" Santana dragged her eyes from the floor and looked hopefully at Rachel.

"Yes, what you have to do is get her to agree to go on a date with you. But this won't be any old date," Rachel smiled conspirationally, "Can you do that?"

"Of course I can," she nodded slowly, "Anyway. Enough of that—let's watch something."

She gave Rachel a push and the brunette sighed loudly, getting up from the bed and fetching back the remote for Santana. She flipped through a few channels until Rachel's hand grabbed hers, "Stop!"

"What?" Santana stared at her but from the TV… she could hear Quinn's voice.

"Obviously it's based off past experiences of mine," Quinn was saying to the interviewer. Santana's mouth fell open. She was doing an interview and didn't mention it? "A lot of it _is _fictional and other parts are bent versions of the truth. And a lot of my life is missing from it."

"OK, so did you have a message you wanted to put across to the reader when you wrote it?" the interviewer asked. Santana watched the thoughts scurry across Quinn's face, something she hoped no one else could see.

"Well…I know it's not a good message but in the end, I knew I had to change myself but that's what the world, or my world, was about—you could be you…but only to a certain extent. Then it's all acting. But I knew I wasn't destined to be the loser fat girl; it felt all wrong. And I also knew it was OK to be the hot lesbian," Quinn said and then paused for thought, "Be whoever you want to be and don't be afraid if that means conforming to society… So I guess the message is: you can be anything you want."

"Doesn't that contradict a lot of what people are saying today?"

"I guess so. But the way I see it is, if there's something you don't like about yourself…why not change it? And get over it," Quinn shrugged her shoulders. Santana was breathing deeply, just waiting for Quinn to say something just a little too far… "Because it may be said that the things which make us different are the things that make us _us_ but I don't agree. If you don't like it, it's obviously not you. You're not comfortable with it—so change it!"

"How was it to see your work—and large parts of your life—brought to life for the screen by strangers?" the interviewer asked her next. Santana felt her palms starting to clam up—Quinn could mess everything up for her at any point now.

Quinn bit her lip and her eyes scanned up and down the interviewer, like she was deciding whether she could confide in her. Santana took the small silence from Quinn's absurd rambling to properly look at her. Obviously she'd managed to get a stylist of some kind—the telltale signs of professional preparation were there. She was made to be in front of the camera, not behind a computer or hiding within pages.

"At first I was terrified," Quinn admitted, looking down at her lap, "I thought it might be horrible, seeing everything again like that…but I think watching them act it out was good for me. They all took their own spin on the characters and helped me distance myself from my past but also see it through a fresh set of eyes."

"So you thought they all did a good job?"

"I thought they all did very well. But I knew they would—casting was a long and meticulous process. Most of all I was impressed with Santana Lopez. I've seen her in many things but I think she did the part complete justice," Quinn said. Santana froze, her eyes wide. She felt Rachel giddily snatch up her hand but her heart was pounding for a whole other reason.

"Is there a particular reason why?"

"I'm not sure. All together it was a brilliant performance but I think she connected to the story on a very personal level. She understood it more than the other actors," Santana felt the colour draining from her face.

"Thanks for joining us here today, Quinn," the interviewer started wrapping up and Santana felt her breathing return to normal, her scalding temperature decreasing, "You can pick up Quinn's book _The Best Time of Your Life_ from bookstores today or see the movie in a few months time!"

Santana turned the television off and let herself recover for a few seconds. Quinn was still playing some sort of game, even if she'd come clean about everything. "Well, score! She's so into you. Gushing about you on _national television_."

"That wasn't gushing," Santana said darkly, "She knew I'd see it."

"What? She was going on about how well you understood and acted it!" Rachel gave her a light shove, "Cheer up."

"How well I understood it…no, Rachel, you don't understand and I don't think I can explain," Santana sighed.

"What?"

"Never mind, forget I said anything," Santana shook her head and dragged a smile onto her face. It didn't take much to fool Rachel that everything was OK. "Shall we talk about how I'm going to get Quinn to agree to go on a date?"

* * *

Santana shoved open the café door and hurried over to the table where she'd seen Quinn sat through the windows. "Sorry, sorry, sorry."

"Santana, you're lucky I turned up," Quinn said stonily, "And you have the cheek to be late."

"Jeez. Drink your coffee," Santana raised her eyebrows, "It's said—I'm always late."

"Whatever," Quinn muttered but drank her coffee anyway. Santana watched her, wondering where this hard Quinn had suddenly come from. Only a few weeks ago had she been timid, cute Quinn. But was that just part of her act?

"I saw your interview last night," Santana said, leaning back in her chair and smiling at Quinn's content look.

"I thought you might. Did you like the little ass-kiss I gave you?" Quinn gave her a tight-lipped smile.

"Loved it," Santana replied, not about to admit how nervous she had her at the time. "I thought that might be the kind of huge thing you'd mention to me."

"Oh, no. Nothing _huge_," she said with a small smirk.

"OK…," Santana said quietly when they fell into silence. She shook her head after a minute and looked back up at Quinn, "At some point I really want to talk about everything that's happened between us…in high school _and _now. I want to help you, Quinn. But first…"

"Mm?" Quinn looked up with interest.

"I wanted to ask you if you wanted to go somewhere with me—on a date. As if none of this ever happened," Santana leant forwards in anticipation of a terrible reaction from Quinn. She knew there was still something going on with her…this was such a bad idea.

"As if we were just two normal girls going on a normal date?" Quinn asked, surprisingly calm.

"Well, maybe not a normal date," Santana said smugly, "I'm a fan of treating the people I love."

Quinn looked up and pursed her lips, choosing to ignore the word that Santana dropped into the conversation. "OK, I'll do it."

Santana felt like cheering but managed only a demure smile.

* * *

"See you, then," Santana said as she stood outside the café with Quinn after their short meet-up. It was surprising how easily the two of them had found it to have a reasonable conversation with everything that had happened between them. It was like, no matter what happened, they could still talk about just about anything.

There was still the small suspicion planted in Santana's mind that Quinn was up to something but it was hard to believe she was. She seemed too genuine.

"OK, see you," Quinn said. An awkward second passed while each of them tried to work out what to do next. Quinn dove in for a few second hug before breaking away and hurrying off down the street without another look at Santana.

But she was happy with that. The hug made up for a lack of eye contact.

Her phone suddenly vibrated within her bag and she fished through the contents until she was holding it in her hand. First was a text from Rachel:

**The dating rumours are going strong! After what Quinn was saying last night and then pictures of the two of you having a coffee. Good luck xxx**

Santana smiled and shook her head. It was just like Rachel to be checking the gossip sites. She moved away from the text and saw that there was an email forwarded to her by her manager.

**I wasn't sure what to do with this:**

**FW: Hey, McKinley High School's New Directions have just won their national championship and it reminded me of you guys! I thought it was about time we had a reunion and saw where everybody's got up to.**

** So, if you can make it, I'd like it if everyone could come back next Wednesday. I'll be around at the school during the day and afterwards, so drop in at any time and stick around for the others. I hope you can all make it!**

Santana blinked her bulging eyes. What terrible timing. Mr Schuester wanted a high school glee club reunion _now_?

She looked down the street in the direction Quinn had just headed off but she could no longer see the glow of golden hair bobbing away from her. Damn Rachel for wasting her time on a silly text message.

* * *

**Sorry about not updating last weekend! And the week before was sneakily up on monday night so that was late..** **I've got a lot of crap to do for college right now :/ so that's why they're a bit irregular and short. **

**Guest **(x3)**: **I don't know if you're all separate people.. but thank you all(?) for the reviews! and yeah hahah Quinn's loopy.

**Thank you to everyone who has followed and favourited too. I'm gonna keep trying to make them constant for you!**


	10. Deceit

**Better Forgotten**

**10. Deceit**

The following evening Rachel was sat with Santana in her hotel's restaurant having taken over the shift from Quinn when she went into isolation. Rachel held Santana's phone in her hand and was reading through the email her manager had forwarded her. "So…why am I reading this?"

Santana gave her an impatient look, "I want your opinion—should I go?"

"Well, sure. Why not?" Rachel blinked a few times, looking back down at the message with confusion. Santana sighed in exasperation—not the answer she was looking for. But then, Rachel had no clue about the history between Santana and Quinn.

"They might've just called it to rope me in and hijack my fame."

"Santana!" Rachel whooped a laugh and the restaurant went silent for a minute, eyes turning to them before looking away. "Don't be so shallow—you've been famous for a while now. Why would they only call it now if that were the case?"

"I don't know. People are weird," Santana had proof for that one.

"I think you should go," Rachel ignored her, "It'll be good for you to go back to a place where you didn't have quite such a big ego."

It was Santana's turn to bark a laugh. "Oh, you have no idea. I was way worse back then…"

Santana trailed off and looked up at Rachel. She'd been on the brink on telling her a few times recently. Would it hurt to at least tell her that Quinn went to her high school?

"And," Santana hesitated. "Quinn also went to my high school."

"_What_?" for a second time the restaurant went silent, the faces that turned their angry now. Rachel whispered, "I mean: what?"

"I knew Quinn in high school," Santana looked down at her food, the colour rising in her cheeks. Damnit, why did she have to go and actually tell her that? _Rachel can't keep a secret_.

"Oh, my God. That's so cute. You've had a crush on her since then?" Rachel cooed, "That's why you were so up for this role! You knew her, gosh. I can't believe you kept this from me!"

"Sorry," Santana said quietly.

"Well, you _have _to go now!" Rachel's smile was a mile wide as she grasped hold of Santana's hand, "We know where you two are going on your date."

"To my high school?" Santana wrinkled her nose and downed the rest of her wine for good measure. "That's not very breath-taking or romantic… I was relying on your broadway obsession to give me some dramatic ideas."

"This is romantic _and _dramatic! Don't tell her that's where you're going, show up, see all the people you used to love and see every day, walk the halls and tell her about how you used to watch her…then maybe take her for a picnic in the park or something," Rachel gushed with a far-away look in her eyes. She was gone.

"Whatever," Santana muttered, not like Rachel heard her through her romance daze anyway.

If she went along with Rachel's idea this date would be a train wreck.

* * *

Quinn walked through the door with a twinkling of the bells and spotted Santana quickly, weaving through the tables of the café to get to her and dropping down into the seat opposite. "This better not be the fabulous date you told me we'd be having."

"Don't worry, it's not," Santana said with a small smile.

"Is this your favourite coffee place or something?" Quinn asked, "I'm going to be on first-name terms with the staff soon."

"Quinn," Santana gave her a look to silence her, "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"OK, go ahead."

Santana stared at her completely blank expression. Really, what was going on with her? She shook her head to clear her through and pulled her phone out of her pocket, bringing up the forwarded email and showing Quinn the screen, "Have you got this email?"

She watched Quinn's eyes as they moved left and right, taking in the words. As she read on her expression slowly changed from surprised to worried. "Going back to high school?"

"Yes. A reunion," Santana put her phone away, understanding that Quinn had read it all now. "Did you not get it?"

"No," Quinn frowned, "I didn't give Mr Schuester my email address or anything for them to contact me by…did you?"

"Nah, that's forwarded by my manager," Santana shrugged, "Are you going to go?"

"Am I going to go?" Quinn's voice raised ever so slightly, "Of course I'm not! You couldn't _drag _me back to that place. Are you?"

"I don't know. Rachel thinks we should," Santana bit her lip. She saw a flash in Quinn's eyes for a second…what was that look for?

"Does she now," Quinn muttered under her breath. "I think it would be a very bad idea. We've only just got back on speaking terms. That place can't do anything good for us."

Santana nodded slowly, looking at Quinn, "You know, I think it might."

"What? No, no. Not at all," Quinn said very quickly.

"Think about it, Q," Santana leant forwards, "Being back there now you're happier might help you."

Quinn stared at Santana for a few minutes, her eyes boring into her. Santana fought to keep her gaze steady. She wasn't going to give up on this. After some persuasion from Rachel she could see now…this was what she had to do.

"Or it could bring everything back and make it worse," Quinn said quietly. "You go ahead if you want. I'm not going. Besides, you already got me accepting to go on a date with you. Isn't that enough?"

"I suppose…" a plan started to form in Santana's head, then, "Yeah, you're right. I'll tell you what: we can go out on the Wednesday. Enjoy ourselves rather than hanging around our old school. How's that?"

Quinn smiled and nodded, "That's better. And I'm expecting this to be _brilliant_. You want to win me over, right?"

"Sure do," Santana forced a smile onto her face but couldn't help thinking about how badly Quinn might react when she realised her plan…

* * *

"OK, we've turned onto her road now," Santana's voice quietened instinctively; even though Quinn was all the way down the street in her apartment building, Santana felt like she could hear her.

"Eek," Rachel's voice squeaked back to her, "Get off the phone with me, then! Let me know how everything goes."

"I just wish she'd believe the rumours and accept that we're dating," Santana laughed drily as her driver pulled up to the curb.

The door of the building was thrown open and a blonde head bobbed her way, eyes squinting in the sunlight. The nervous butterflies stopped skittering around Santana's stomach for a moment while she watched Quinn approach. In her ear Rachel was wittering away about something but suddenly it was so easy to ignore her.

"Crap," she muttered when Quinn was opening the door, coming back to her senses, "She's here—bye!"

"Who's here?" Quinn asked with a smirk as she slid into the car and pulled the door shut behind her.

"No one," Santana replied with a quick wink and slipped her phone into her bag when the car started moving again. "Excited?"

"Worried would be a better word," Quinn looked her up and down with a curious eye and Santana tried to hold the heat from her cheeks under her gaze. At least Quinn seemed to be in a better mood than she had recently. "Where are you taking me?"

"The element of surprise, Quinn," Santana shook her head but glanced out of the window, "We're nearly there, though."

Quinn nodded in satisfaction and leant against the window, her eyes on the streets outside. "I love these blacked out windows. No one knows you're looking at them."

"Sneaky Quinn," Santana said distractedly, seeing their first stop coming up ahead. She looked away and let Quinn keep ogling out of the window.

A minute later the driver put on the indicator and Quinn sat up, eyes on Santana. "Why are we coming in here, isn't this for workers?"

"Nope…"

"Oh, my God," Quinn was back at the window now, "We're getting a private plane? Where are we going?"

Santana smiled fondly—the Quinn she'd grown used to was back. She tried to bite back the guilt that was trying to pierce the happy moment. "That's a surprise."

* * *

"I forgot how boring flying was," Quinn groaned, shuffling around in her seat again. She'd tried to plump it up over five times now.

"I can't imagine you travelling normal class if you think _this _is bad," Santana shook her head as one of the private planes flight attendants came towards them with a small trolley laden with food and a bottle of wine. The two girls sat in silence as the meal was dished out to them and their wine glasses were filled and placed beside the plates.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" the man asked, stepping back. Santana gave him a smile and a quick shake of the head and he disappeared quickly.

"Tuck in," Santana urged Quinn who was sat shocked in her seat.

"This is like being royalty…" she muttered.

"I told you," Santana said seriously, "I'm going to give you the life you deserve. I'm going to make up for everything I did to you."

* * *

"We're landing now, so please remain seated until we've stopped moving," the pilot's voice came over the intercom. Quinn let out a small giggle but fastened her seatbelt all the same, her eyes locked on Santana's.

"This is my favourite part," Quinn said quietly.

"Landing? Isn't that the worst bit?" Santana raised an eyebrow, glancing out of the window. If Quinn looked out now she'd surely recognise where they were going…but she was going to see sooner or later, anyway. Sweat crept out of the creases of her palms, a strange feeling clenching her chest now that they were nearly home.

Quinn shook her head, "The best. Closely followed by taking off…it makes me feel like I'm flying."

"I could probably arrange for you to go paragliding or something if you want to fly."

Quinn shot her a look that Santana couldn't read. Was there something wrong with that suggestion?

Suddenly the plane dipped and the sound of the runway roared beneath them. Now, all she could see out of the window was meters of grass rushing past in a green blur. The smile slowly slipped from Quinn's face as they decreased in speed and then, finally, the pilot parked the plane.

Santana gathered her things and lead the way for the two of them to get off the plane. The door opened and revealed a tall set of metal stairs. Santana hesitated, looking over her shoulder at Quinn, "Got everything?"

Quinn nodded impatiently and tried to peer out of the door. Santana sighed and stepped forwards. She couldn't put it off any longer. She had to go through with it now, even though Quinn could realise at any second what she'd done.

A short distance away from the plane was a limo, its door open in anticipation of the two girls descending the steps in the sunshine. Santana glanced at Quinn again but it seemed she was still in the dark about where they were.

She helped Quinn into the limo and got in after, closing the door herself so the driver didn't have to get out. She met Quinn's gaze for a second but looked away when the car started to pull out of the airport.

Any time now.

"Hey, Santana…," Quinn said slowly. Santana shot her a quick look and found her staring out of the window as more familiar sights slowly started to zoom into view. "Are we…?"

Santana looked away from her, swallowing the lump that had suddenly formed in her throat.

"Oh, my God," Quinn said, something apparently sealing the deal. She knew where the were. "I can't believe you'd do this!"

* * *

**Sorry for the two week gap again. I didn't think I'd be quite so busy haha. Thank you for the new follows/favourites and reviews!**

**ErosEternaGlee: **hm I hadn't really thought about parents since they're both adults lol. San came close to telling rachel but you'll something to do with that soon ;D I love seeing your thoughts and suggestions, I'll see what I can do to include some. thanks for the review!

**Rainezeik: **icy queen hahah, thanks for the review and making me laugh lol


	11. McKinley

**Better Forgotten**

**11. McKinley**

Santana sat frozen in her place. Quinn stared at her for a few seconds before her head whipped around and she stared out of the window for a little while, then she turned back to Santana. It was like she was on a loop, constantly repeating the same actions.

Santana didn't have a clue what to do.

"I need to get out of here," Quinn squeaked, an irritated noise following. Santana tried to blink herself out of her daze and when she came back to earth, Quinn's hand was on the doorhandle.

"No, no," Santana found her voice. Quinn turned away from her and opened the door, undoing her seatbelt simultaneously.

It all happened so quickly—Quinn lifting herself off her seat with a quick glance at Santana before pushing herself towards the open doorway of the still moving car.

"NO," Santana roared and grabbed the girls arm at the last second and, with all her might, managed to keep a firm grip on her when she felt Quinn push herself from the car.

The car was slowing now, the driver having realised he had a lunatic in the backseat but Santana wasn't letting go of Quinn. She could feel the blonde trying to pull away from her again, her head turning in all directions as if looking for help.

Finally, the limo came to a halt in a lay-by. Quinn practically ripped her arm from Santana's hands and had her feet out of the car in a flash but Santana lurched forwards and wrapped her arms around the girl's waist. After a minute of struggling, Quinn went still. "Get off me, Santana."

The hairs on the back of Santana's neck stood up, unnerved by Quinn's sudden calm. "I can't let go of you, Quinn."

"Why not."

"Who knows what you'll do if I let you go off on your own?" Santana couldn't believe Quinn was even asking. "I'm only saving you from yourself."

"And you wouldn't need to if you hadn't _brought me here_," Quinn spat through gritted teeth, managing to swivel around in Santana's arms so she faced her. There was a flame in Quinn's eyes that wasn't usually there and it terrified Santana.

A sleek black car was quickly approaching from the direction they'd just come. The limo may have been in a lay-by but with the door wide open and Quinn stood outside they were covering part of the lane.

The car began to slow and passenger's seat window started rolling down. A second later a head popped out and Santana heard them say, "That's them!"

Santana's mouth fell open as, along with the head, a camera poked out of the window. Which suddenly started flashing.

"Get back in the car, OK? If you let me, I can show you why this is going to be good for you," Santana quickly attempted to reason with her. She tried to get her to sit back down, away from the prying eyes of what was obviously paparazzi. Quinn snapped, pushing Santana away from herself.

Santana's hands slipped away from Quinn and she fell, grabbing the car seat to keep herself falling out of it face first. When she looked up, Quinn was running away down the road. Santana shook her head to herself. What had she done?

She watched through the window as Quinn broke away from the road and started running through the long grass alongside it.

Santana turned back to look at the paparazzi and saw that there was not just one car—two others were following. She groaned and pulled the limo door shut. Hopefully they wouldn't follow Quinn.

* * *

"Quinn," Santana shouted. She hesitated a few seconds but no response came besides her own words echoing back to her. She squinted into the distance and turned in a full circle to see if she could at least see her.

She knew the general direction she'd run off in since she'd watched her…but this _field _was much larger than she'd first expected. And her heels were not made for clambering through knee-length grass. Who knew what creatures were lurking down there, too.

Given the mood she was in—and the fact that there was a dozen people with cameras outside—Santana had waited around in the car for an hour or two to let Quinn cool off…she could be anywhere by now. She could've even walked to that damn airport and hopped on a flight back to LA.

But something told Santana that in her hysteria, that thought wouldn't have occurred to Quinn. She could feel she was close, weird as that sounded.

"Quinn!" she shouted again and tripped her way a few more metres into the field. She stepped down on her right foot and it carried on sinking, almost making her completely lose her balance. She lifted her foot and groaned at the mud covering it.

"Isn't that a funny sight," Quinn's voice made her snap her head up, dropping her foot back into the mud with a squelch.

"Oh, you're ready now, Q? We might have to make a stop at the mall before we go to McKinley," Santana said testily. She knew she shouldn't treat Quinn like this—especially now—but she was irritated. Very irritated.

"I'm not going there with you, Santana," Quinn said seriously, "Take me home."

"We _are _home," Santana reminded her, "This is where we both grew up."

"This is _not _my home," Quinn snapped. "Do you have any idea how much I hate this place?"

"I know, Quinn," Santana said quietly, "I know. That's why I wanted us to come back—so, with the new me by your side—you could see this place isn't so horrible."

Quinn laughed darkly. "You think everything's about you, don't you?"

Santana hesitated. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I don't just hate Ohio because of high school. Sure, it's a huge part of the reason…but you've read my book. You know about my parents," Quinn was all but shouting again now, "You made my school-life hell and they made my home-life hell. There's _nothing _for me here. I've made a new life for myself."

"And some life that is," Santana said calmly, "Sitting around your apartment…plotting revenge plans on your high school bully."

Quinn was silenced by that.

Santana took the opportunity to carry on, "Exactly, Q. You're not much better off and you won't be until you let this go. You said you have but I can tell that's not true. Let me do this for you, _please_."

"Why did you tell the paparazzi?" Quinn asked. Santana took her avoidance of the subject as consent.

"I didn't—I don't know how they knew we'd be here," Santana frowned, "But we won't be seeing them again, I dealt with them."

"OK…"

"OK?" Santana asked hopefully. Quinn's eyes were on the ground. "OK, you'll come to McKinley with me?"

Quinn rolled her eyes, finally looking at her properly. Santana smiled encouragingly. "Fine."

* * *

It was an eerie sensation—pulling up in the McKinley parking lot in the back of a limousine with Quinn beside her and almost no other cars in sight. Santana checked the time on her phone in confusion: it was a Wednesday, where was everyone? But, obviously, their little complication had wasted quite a bit of time and now it was 17:30.

The driver cut the engine and Santana looked across at Quinn whose leg was bouncing up and down, her lower lip between her teeth. She reached over and took one of Quinn's hands, smoothing her thumb across it, "Come on, Quinn. Everything will be OK."

Quinn's gaze met hers and her knee stopped bobbing for a few seconds. Santana hurriedly got out of the car and offered Quinn her hand to help her out. When she shut the door and they began their way towards the entrance, Quinn didn't let go.

Santana felt it all rushing back to her—as if, when she looked down, she'd see her neatly pressed Cheerios uniform swishing as she walked. And she knew Quinn was feeling the same, not just by the sudden pallor of her cheeks. She squeezed her hand reassuringly. "You're with me now, everything will be alright."

She thought that if she told her that enough times, perhaps she'd start believing it.

Santana pushed open the door and lead the two of them through it, into the main corridor. When she tried to carry on walking, she felt resistance from Quinn. She looked back and saw she was frozen in place.

"Quinn," Santana whispered in the complete silence of the deserted hallway. Quinn's eyes flashed to hers but then back to the corridor opening out behind her. "Look at me."

Quinn sighed and this time when she looked at her, her gaze didn't wander.

"This place is behind you, now. You're better without it and we've all moved on. There's nothing to be afraid of," Santana felt her palms starting to sweat, feeling all the responsibility of keeping Quinn sane landing on her shoulders. She'd never been the comforting friend or a shoulder to cry on, "I'm right beside you."

Quinn took a deep breath and nodded, "Let's go find Mr Schue."

"All right," Santana smiled and linked her arm through Quinn's, going back to leading her down the corridor. When they passed into a bisecting corridor Santana felt Quinn stiffen but she allowed herself to be towed forwards, so Santana continued until they reached the choir room.

She looked at Quinn with her hand on the doorknob, assessing her sanity. When Quinn gave her a weak smile she twisted the handle and opened the door, walking in herself with Quinn close behind.

All eyes in the room turned on the two girls and Quinn's grip on Santana tightened. There was a moment of silence before Mr Schuester opened his arms to them for a hug, "Santana, Quinn…I hadn't been expecting you two!"

"Hey, Mr Schue," Santana hugged him quickly before he moved onto Quinn, Santana not letting go of the blonde for even a second. Santana took the distraction to look around herself at the other people in the choir room with them, all staring at her.

"Santana!" a blonde who'd been in the year below them hurried towards Santana: Kitty Wilde. A little bitch that she'd been forced to pretend she was friends with—of course, she was going to be nice to her now Santana had made a name for herself. Kitty gave her a tight hug and stepped back, glancing at Quinn, "You and Orca came together? I wouldn't have recognised her if not for Mr Schuester…"

"Back off, Kitty," Santana said through clenched teeth. She'd forgotten Kitty was part of the Quinn bullying. She wondered if Quinn had heard that. "Don't call her that. Yes, me and _Quinn _came together."

Kitty nodded, a calculating expression overcoming her face. Quinn was suddenly against her side again and looking at Kitty very nervously, "Hi, Kitty."

"Hey, Quinn," she said with a small smile. "Looking good."

Santana stared at Kitty. She'd called her Orca a second ago—was she _truly _being nice or…?

Quinn's cheeks flushed pink, "Really?"

"Yeah!" Kitty linked her arm through the one that Santana wasn't occupying, "We could pass as sisters."

"Um…thanks," Quinn said quietly and let Kitty drag her and Santana over to where the others were standing.

"Hey guys, if you can't tell: this is Quinn," Kitty said when they broke into the circle, "She's transformed."

Stunned faces greeted them until Sam Evans spoke up, "Quinn? Man, you got hot!"

* * *

"Quinn," Santana came up behind her and tapped her on the shoulder. She spun around, away from her conversation with Kitty, Sam, Tina and Mike. "Want to go look around a bit?"

Quinn looked torn for a second before nodding and quickly excusing herself. She took Santana's hand again as they left the room.

"Enjoying yourself?" Santana asked sweetly. Quinn gave her an annoyed look but nodded all the same. "See, I told you it'd be good for you."

They passed the same point in the corridor they did earlier and Quinn went stiff again. Santana paused.

"What's wrong with this corridor? You went weird here last time, too."

Quinn let go of her hand and walked over to the row of lockers, pointing at one of them, "This was my locker. And this was where I had the majority of my daily attacks."

"Come here," Santana said, opening her arms. Quinn bit her lip but stepped into her grasp all the same, allowing Santana to hug her.

After a few seconds, Santana pulled away with a smile…but that fell from her face when she saw Quinn.

"Oh, Q! Why are you crying?" she asked, gripping onto the girls shoulders. Quinn shook her head and let out a pitiful laugh.

"It's just…" she searched for the words. She shook her head again and pulled Santana back for another hug, "It's perfect."

Santana tightened her arms around Quinn and felt her do the same. For the first time in weeks, Santana finally felt Quinn liked her and a weight seemed to lift off her shoulders. She felt her heartbeat accelerate for some reason and her hands were clamming up…

"I think I'm in love with you," Santana whispered. In horror, she shut her mouth immediately. How could she be so stupid as to say that at a _moment like this_? She waited for Quinn to respond with a racing heart but all she got in reply were a few more happy sniffles.

Santana breathed a sigh of relief. It seemed Quinn hadn't heard.

* * *

"OK, I better start making tracks," Sam said, standing up. He opened his arms and Santana watched as Quinn happily stepped into them. "But you've got my number, Quinn. Don't be a stranger."

"I won't," Quinn promised, her voice muffled against his shoulder. Santana smiled fondly at the two of them. She'd never expected Quinn and Sam to hit it off…they'd never been friends when they were in glee together. But then, Sam's blind optimism was something Quinn could definitely do with being exposed to.

"We should probably go, too," Santana stood up when Quinn backed away from Sam, "We've got a few more stops on the agenda."

"Oh, no," Mr Schue appeared, overhearing their conversation, "Everyone's leaving! Come on, guys. One last group hug."

Everyone laughed but obliged, wrapping their arms around each other like a family. Santana looked across the circle at Quinn who was beaming with all the affection. She wouldn't be able to put into words without sounding like a creep how happy seeing Quinn's joy made her.

When everyone pulled away people began departing in numerous directions to the different areas of the parking lot, others remaining with Mr Schuester a bit longer. Quinn took hold of Santana's hand again and swung their joint hands between them as they walked to the main entrance.

"This is the best day of my life, Santana," Quinn confessed as they came to the doors, "How lame is that?"

"It's not lame," Santana assured her, pushing open the doors to lead the pair of them out when Quinn stopped moving. Santana looked at her with a bemused expression, "What?"

Suddenly a pair of lips came down on Santana's. For a moment she was stunned, staring at Quinn's face but then her eyes fluttered shut and she allowed herself to get lost in the kiss.

Her hands, which were limp at her sides lifted, one cupping Quinn's face and the other on her lower back. She hoped that Quinn couldn't feel how sweaty they suddenly were, or that she couldn't feel—not feel, _hear_—how quickly her heart was racing.

_ Had _Quinn heard her tell her she loved her earlier? Was that where this had come from? Santana no longer cared. Whatever had persuaded Quinn to do this, she was glad for it. This was the best day of _her_ life.

Flashes went off behind her closed eyelids and she couldn't help but smile to herself. She'd heard that when you kiss _the one _you're supposed to see fireworks. She didn't care anymore that Quinn might feel her sweaty hands or pounding heartbeat because it was Quinn who was deepening the kiss.

The fireworks intensified and Santana frowned—what the hell? She was about to open an eye when suddenly a voice asked, "So the rumours are true. How long have the two of you been dating?"

"Will you be attending the movie premiere together?"

"What about Brittany, Santana?"

* * *

**Thanks again to everyone who has reviewed/favourited/followed. I feel like I'm finally giving you guys a decent upload! This one definitely had some substance to it heh.. **

**ErosEternaGlee: **yeah it was very much a filler chapter

**Guest: **ah, well as you can see all went well in the end!


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